there’s an umbrella in the supermarket over her in the dairy section
in case the light pours too much or something happens with the sprinklers
that we never anticipated.
later moves to the telephone wires
where it hangs just like those shoes do.
in that I don’t know exactly what it means
but I have a great deal of faith that it means something.
and although last night I dreamed about not sleeping
waking up wasn’t confusing so much as another
piece of the puzzle.
I sleep near a window with drapes
that I can face if I want
and I used to want a high bed
for standing reasons but these days
I just want to stay low to the ground.
today the umbrella is still there like the shoes
and she is standing in front of it,
holding a piece of string that just goes up
and with rain pockets in her coat
in case she needs to feel miserable.
the sun is out
it’s 1130 at night
and there is an ice cream truck driving down the street.