Paul Bryan Friedman

(Meridian, Mississippi)

She Left Her Umbrella

Poem by Paul Bryan Friedman

This paradise will never be the same.
The salon is upstairs, on the second floor. You can't miss it.
If I were younger
and no one told me about
days like these,
I'd sing a doo-wah-ditty-dum-diddy, too.
I'm not
and offers of succor come to late.

Help, I need somebody
not anybody.
I need
someone, too
please, woo.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

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