Orange Umbrellas

  • Today,
  • Small birds they had never noticed before
  • Held their gaze.
  • They sat down;
  • The breeze was biting.
  • How had they never noticed the patio umbrellas were orange?
  • Or how the grass shot out of the metal grate?
  • Or the scribbles on the third-story window?
  • Or the way the air sounded
  • Or the ants in their neat little lines
  • Or the click click click of footsteps
  • Or the tiny planes twinkling in the cerulean sky?
  • How had they never noticed
  • That they had been happy?