Skip to content
from the September 2005 issue: A Freckle On The Nose: Poetry Over Prose

Ego

I
my umbrella
both of us
gray
with a fine wooden grip
from hand to hand
we go
I and my trusty umbrella
he's always at hand
even when it's not raining
but when the sun comes out
I let him down

September 2005
A Freckle On The Nose: Poetry Over Prose
Like what you read? Help WWB bring you the best new writing from around the world.