It’s rainy season here in Madrid. We Write Poems’ Prompt #79 encouraged us to write about broken things, or when things aren’t quite going your way. In my English classes we’ve been playing many incessant games of “describe that thing,” which is what inspired the title.
It’s a Thing You Don’t Use When It Pours
A forgotten umbrella.
Rain, patient and relentless,
flooding notebooks with sad poems
all across the peninsula.
The umbrella has also forgotten me,
sprawled spindle-up on the terrace,
broken spokes remind me of
severed grasshopper legs,
splintered chicken bone.