teddybear leather shoes


    I walk to class in sticky rain.


    College sidewalks littered with color,


    strawberry-red, limo-black, umbrellas engulfing heads.


    Blue catches my eye, slick and curved fabric.


    Umbrella man, you hide under


    damp umbrella skies.


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    Your teddybear leather shoes


    peek out from under rainy-day protection.


    Where are you headed to?


    I am slipping through muddy puddles


    of infatuation when a sleek purple umbrella


    sails by, owner unknown and moving fast.


    Purple wears no shoes, embraces


    the water and wet pant legs. He is joined


    by peppy lemons-into-lemonade yellow


    who holds his thumb and jumps through


    his puddles with more eagerness


    than a caffeinated sun puppy.


    I suppose blue will do.


    Wait for me, teddybear shoes.