by Margaret Iuni
Our feet walk the well-trodden path.
You,
With your umbrella
Perched on a shoulder
Reminding us of
The possibility of rain,
And me,
In a white shirt
Untested by water
Desperately hoping
It won’t matter.
Our feet walk the well-trodden path.
You,
With your umbrella
Perched on a shoulder
Reminding us of
The possibility of rain,
And me,
In a white shirt
Untested by water
Desperately hoping
It won’t matter.
