Where’s My Umbrella?

Found a stranger in my closet last night. A handle,

been a canopy type. Black like a storm but dry as

the moon. Where's my umbrella? The one I adore. The one that

I danced with in puddles before. Where's my umbrella? My partner in crime.

I lost it somewhere between clouds and time. The wind stole its whispers and

carried them far. Tangled in treetops or caught on a car. I should have

held tighter but my hands let go, oh. Maybe it's out

there being free. Laughing at weather and mocking the sea.