Umbrella

There are people out there who

will….um….Who offer you their umbrellas  And some of those

people hold the umbrella more over you than over themselves   You try

to stand close Closer  And then  you realize they’re drenched Entirely  And only

your legs and feet are wet  Those people who offer you a ride And when you get in their car  They have to move the books, papers,  Ziploc bag of crumbs Off of the seat, Throw it  in the back to deal with later  “My car’s a mess!” The radio station is set to NPR  They get situated  They smooth down soaking wet hair In the rearview mirror  The hair that that they wore down despite the humidity  Long, brown, wavy hair These people who make sweet small talk As they slowly  drive you  to your car in the  downpour...

You

Observe

 them

peripherally

As best

you can

Soaked,

drenched

Because

they

held

 the

umbrella

over you

soaked

drenched

kindred

Those who

                                 feel                         that the

                        umbrella                           should

                              be  over                      you

                                          more  than over

                                           themselves.