Like the umbrellas that litter the tracks of the d train line,
I am tired from a long day's work, fighting forces of nature bigger than me,
and I lay here, a little broken.
Not broken beyond repair, but I have outlived my five dollar life span,
have done my best to shield against the driving rain and gusty winds
and at the time when I need just a little fixing,
I am tossed away with yesterdays free newspaper and an old gum wrapper.
So loved in times of panic, so lost in times of sun,
this is the life of a five dollar umbrella.
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1 comment:
I like it!
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