Uncertainty can often
blur your surroundings.
Unclear.
The map is always there,
the lines signify the path
you need to follow.
You simply have to find
the direction.
It is all in your hands.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
I don’t do umbrellas.
Well, I do… or I have, but it is always a temporary thing.
It seems I can never keep a bumbershoot in my possession.
Who knows how many I have lost, or misplaced, or left behind at unknown points along my journey? I have purchased, been gifted, and found more umbrellas than I dare to count. Many have been abandoned in cabs, coffee shops or cocktail lounges, business meetings, funerals, hotel rooms, or hanging on the coat rack at some soon-forgotten lover’s apartment (I do remember the quick getaway in the pre-dawn hours, only to be reminded by the downpour on the wet tenement steps the moment I got outside).
I will not spend another dollar on something I am sure to lose again, the money far better spent on lottery tickets where there is an even greater chance of a return.
Instead, on those mornings where rain has arrived or is threatening, I choose to don this old reliable Tilley hat that my father gave me some 30 years ago. With an almost umbrella-sized brim (protecting my eyeglasses from errant or evident splish-splash), it is ugly, utilitarian, and utterly useful; with hands-free convenience, it does what it is supposed to do, promises nothing more, and is there when I need it.
I haven’t lost it yet.
06/15/2021 j.g.l.