A Poem-A-Day Celebration

Poem submission by artificialcensus

Worn by millennia of neglect 
As decrepit and grey as he were, 
Tired bones rattled up the steepest hill in town. 

Umbrella’s felt – faded
Submissive to Wind’s brute strength
Served little to the sheltering of the fatiguing blind man.

As if the oceans had inverted, 
The road beared resemblance to waterfalls
Carrying schools of debris – and nearly, the umbrella porter.

Reaching the summit
Digits found the doorbell
To which the sound alerted the occupants within.

Answered by the deaf man 
And greeted by the mute friend
The threesome sat down to poker and rum.

As rain battled earth and wind ravaged window panes -  
Rosy cheeked, 
Each man took great joy in the miscommunication.