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.