His Daylight Unclogs

He shoulders his heavy mind, hunched under a dripping umbrella of anxieties. Dogs avoid the puddles he makes, minor ponds of sniffs and scuffles that he takes with him always. He has a pocket handkerchief that blows his nose when the laden air plunders his sinus's. His has become allergic to himself. Quite by chance a new airy broom sweeps away the damp clogging's of his fusty brain. Polar bears appear within his inner eye, they bring oranges from Florida, fruits that will not ripen in his own dark and crusty world. Folding the black saucer of his umbrella, he un-puckers his brow. Head-up, he side-steps. his musty mood. Poodles and pugs play in the pools of his former bothersome drippings.