Poet’s Parasol

It persists through the seasons
winter, spring, summer, till autumn
hang on there all the time
dawn, all day long, till dusk

Its parts are incredibly awesome
the thick and thin, the rough and smooth
an imperfectly perfect entity
fully clad in the spring and summer

Transforms into a garter snake
during autumn and winter
shed those lush silky apparel
of ruby and emerald

It remains out there in midwinter
like a naked tent in the Himalayas
that apparel should persist but
this parasol is fated by Nature.

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