The Tattered Umbrella
and dark clouds invade
raindrops fall at the
rain soaked feet..
The umbrella of friendship
tattered with holes
refuse to protect me today..
Thoughts run back
to another dark night,
where it rained as fiercely as now..
Yes, I was soaked, that day too
not from the umbrella- yet not tattered-
but from trying to protect a friend
from the cascading rain..
The raindrops tasted sweet that day
and the cold air was warm with laughter..
Rolling of thunder brings me back,
as raindrops run down my face,
reaching my lips, uninvitedly..
but why, oh why,
does it taste like salt today?