Under Your Umbrella

8/27

Quietly and unexpectedly,
you approached me like the silent calm
before a storm, unassuming, with
a brace on your left leg, a slight limp
to your walk disguising the
elaborate choreography of your body.
You caught me in my rainy season,
in the pause between deluges,
and handed me your umbrella to
ward off the oncoming clouds.
But the clouds you brought behind you
had already broken, as I broke over
your silent calm, and your silent calm
poured over me,
the umbrella laying needless at my door
as I took your hand and guided you inside.