Poem: An Old Man’s Umbrella

 

I’ve lost my umbrella, said the man standing in the rain,

his feet were immersed in water, garbage covered the storm drain.

I remember picking it up, it was on the table near the door,

he rambled on to the crowd, slushing around in the steady downpour.

*

People chuckled at him, as they held their umbrellas over their heads,

someone remarked, I think that guy forget to take his meds!

Despite the attention, the old man directed to his unfortunate situation,

no one offered to help him, attributing his problem to retardation.

*

A young boy came running from the store and helped the man inside,

his innocent young face, lacked the slightest indication of pride.

The youngster gave the man a new towel, from the display stand,

the clerk shook her head side-to-side, then held out her open hand.

*

Reaching into his pocket, the boy gave her the only money he had,

a handful of small coins, his past months allowance from his dad.

The clerk scolded the young man, telling him the towel cost more,

then she pointed her finger, and told them both to leave the store.

*

A security guard grabbed the towel from on top of the man’s head,

and said a cruel thing or two, like he wished the old guy was dead.

The old man raised his hand and reached into his wet black slacks,

and pulled out a large wad of cash and pointed to all the racks.

*

You see, he said to the guard and the middle-aged woman clerk,

I don’t like my employees, treating any customer like a jerk.

Both of you stared at me, while I was standing out there in the rain,

disregarding my predicament, possibly declaring me to be insane.

*

That is no way to treat a pauper or a rich member of the human race,

please exit my store, I don’t think you should work in my place.

The old-timer smiled at the lad and handed him a stack of money,

the young boy began to laugh, like the whole situation was funny.

*

Sir, I don’t want your dollars because that would be a reward,

I didn’t help you out in the rain, because I was bored.

We all should come to the rescue, when someone is in danger,

be it a relative, good friend, or an older rain-soaked stranger.

*

The boy smiled at the old man, then patted him on the back,

he walked towards the door then stopped by the last rack.

The lad selected a large black umbrella and took it to the man,

the old-timer gazed at it and said it was of the finest brand.

*

Please remember it, said the boy, for the next storm,

it isn’t nice to get wet, you need to stay dry and warm.

The child walked out the door and then ran down the street,

as the store owner sat down and began drying off his feet.

*

The moral of this poem is as simple as the words found above,

we should help those in need, not for money but for love.

While it is funny to make fun of those having a difficult time,

the cruelty is beyond being rude, it’s more like a social crime.

***

 

Images:

https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net (man not connected with this poem)

https://images.fineartamerica.com

#weather #poetry #story #moral #love #respect #senior #age

Poem by David Andre Davison

 

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