Umbrellas at the Beach

May 17, 2009
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It's a beautiful day
Summer has come to play.
A chance to start anew
Let's go paint the sky blue.

The sun is smiling bright
She scatters the night
Down by the sandy shores
Gentle swirling, peachy whirls.

The ocean has no bounds
Her blueness, no depth
Her waves, no beginning nor end
Washing, no wrinkles left.

I see people. Still. Silent.
Clad in black, head to toe.
By the beach. In the water.
Pasty complexions. Sober. Solemn.

"Where is the funeral?" I ask.
So stiff, so choking were they.
Smelled like death.

Black umbrellas over their heads.
They stand like gravestones.
"No funeral." They say.
"Prepare for stormy weather."

I don't understand.
The sun smiles. The sky blues.
Can't you smile too?

"Silly girl. Poor silly girl.
Winter nears. The rain will come.
The thunder will come.
Gusts of wind. Cold.”

No.
No.
No.

Wake up, you silly umbrella heads.
Wake up. Now.

The sun shines now.
Are you in, or are you out?
Leave behind your umbrellas
Let them go.

Fine. Then I'll go.
Write your own tragedies.
I can smile. I can sing:
"It's a beautiful day."





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