I ran in the drench past
A discarded umbrella
Alone, bent back,
With twisted spine
And crooked spokes.
This was no help to someone
Who needed more shelter
Than this could provide.
This was no help to someone
Who needed a stronger back
Than yours to stay alive.
The flappering cloth
Heavy and soaked
Puddle-damp
Lifeless.
This is how it is
To be discarded.