Rainy Friday

Friday Rain. The café facing the busy street has big windows I see umbrellas walking by, some of them stop, fold wings, shake water off backs and enter. I remember my childhood in black and grey when umbrellas were stygian; and a lady umbrella was a bit smaller, yet imp-like, had frilly silk borders, but was sable too. Rain shades are of all colures now. cheerful a sharp breeze, they turn inside out and that’s ok; it is the festive hues against the inundation I like.