Les parapluies de

Sunday morning
main street
ciel de plomb
spitting rain

piove
a melancholy word
and no birds sing

the colours strung too high
too dull in this dim light
like most gestures
empty.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Les parapluies de”

  1. Was this a special event?
    Piove is sort of melancholy. 😀
    In the photo, the colors look bright against the grey sky, but maybe not so much if you’re standing there.

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