Umbrellas in park bench

Six umbrellas sit on the bench.
A rain is falling on all of them.

Two umbrellas dark as a night,
Join them at the green bench.

Sea sits behind them, in green.
A sky stands behind it in blue.

Sea has no umbrella above it.
Being high, a sky has neither.

Rain beats down on umbrellas.
They have to leave the bench.

The bench has no umbrellas.
It is now wet with the rainfall.

Umbrellas , folded and home,
Are dripping with a memory.


Now she smiles, now cries

There is smile on the infant.
You have to give her a name.

Now she smiles , now cries
And the sun appears in rain

Name her sun through rain.
You all know nameless sun

Through the rain and cloud.
Name her the smile in tears

A queen of myth who sings
A lullaby about life’s brevity.


I have notions that all this is not there
With the sun and the clouds and a sky

Falling in the sea, in their fit of laughter
The wind sporadic from the mountains.

Mountains are not there in the horizon
The horizon is notion from our dreams

Embedded in old mountains not there.
Notions are not there when bodies gone.