Blustery murkiness of the bleak day~
Has an eerie luminosity to the base of the sky~
As the storm squalling on~
Bends each branch as a test to sometime break with a snap.
I walk alone amongst the windy trees~
On a pebbled path underfoot~
With a constant light spray of rain mist on my face~
My hair protected by a hood.
With hands curled in my pink hoody’s pouch~
I mosey enjoying the freshness of what the gales blow in~
As a little toad hops out of harms way while my feet saunter on down the nuggets of stone to the road where I wish to go.
The side road with houses snuggled close~
Some with chimneys smoking~
Gives a security of hominess~
To my wandering bones raw~
From dampness found every where in the rainstorm air.
Two by two I venture past diverse homesteads~
As my eyes are drawn to a forlorned sight~
A shame an abandoned black broken umbrella being ripped at by the wind~
Spokes clearly busted as it sits half on a driveway while lopsided partly on a dingy soaked yard.
I observe this deserted umbrella with pity in my heart~
Such a wasteful shame for no hope could it have to be useful anymore at any point~
As it once was new and vital a handsome display.
This now irregular carousel almost inching its way to the paved road by strong tearing gales~
Looks to be rescued by me or you?
Alas I turn to not look anymore~
At the cast off of life~
Unbalanced, lost in strife~
For what could I more do? ~
But walk back to my humble abode~
Questioning my lack of action~
For the forsaken sand dirtied lost soul? ~
Wondering if anyone else will stop to rescue this deserted article? ~
As I had clearly made up my mind~
That it was not mine to salvage nor save~
Yet it continues to haunt me~
Till this day.
By Lisa J. Warner AKA Lisa Luv