Death of an Umbrella

DEATH OF AN UMBRELLA

You lay there,
Shattered in the street
Like some wanton, windswept carcass
Of a bat.

Vagabond, the wind
Has thrown you to the ground
Your steel ribs collapsed
Exposed.

Soaked through with cruel darts
Of rain and piercing wind
And mud slung from careless shoes
The storm has conquered you.
Weary traveler, your tale is at an end—
“just trash”.