Utility

An umbrella gently
bounced down the sidewalk,
dwarfing the small frame
that sloshed beneath it.
Wet wellies kicking spray,
forming tiny wakes
that rippled softly and
once again spread over the concrete.

It was navy blue,
not bright and ostentatious.
It absorbed the light.
It defied notice -
a mere shield -
a little pitched tent.
It glided along,
bobbing and swaying,

Growing smaller down the way.
No gust of wind
disturbed the pace.
The gait I counted
down the walk:
one, two, one, two.
The roof-like tarp
steadily took the patches of block
until at the corner
it escaped my view.

(C) Tasha Chinnock 2012

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