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Click hereIt was not a day for umbrellas
wind whipped down central streets
frigid and filled with rain
brown shoes plodding
through city puddles
dirt and discarded hot dogs
another block of stinging rain
followed by eight hours
of grey monotony
I was walking to work the other morning in the scene described and I thought to myself "this would make a good poem" or maybe it was "this is something I could write a poem about." Something very vivid and poetic to me, a human connection perhaps, about it being too windy for an umbrella in the rain. Came back to me last night after I nixed two other starts.
Can be relieved by reading Lesse's poetry. I sincerely love the way you write.
Almost makes the Reader imagine he is on the same rain-whipped street !!