The Dark Purple Umbrella Poem Poem by Romella Kitchens

The important things of today and yesterday
melt into thin air.
I was in Downtown Pittsburgh one day.
The street was filled with well-dressed "worker-drones" carrying umbrellas so afraid of contact with each other, none of the umbrellas even collided.
They were frigid flamingos skating on icy hard
manners.
It reminded me of a Truffaut film or maybe Cherbourg.
I wanted to scream out: "This is a critically
artistic, cinematic moment! "
But, then the rain stopped.
The umbrellas all snapped closed.
And, all of those Catherine Deneuve
looking business woman dissipated
away.