Umbrellas Change, Too

There are two umbrellas in my parents' coat closet
that have been there for 30 years.

And I have never seen them used.

They are tall, with red and white stripes,
and brittle, plastic handles.

They give me a false
sense of stability.

For there has not been a single moment
through the course of my life when I have opened
that closet and those
umbrellas haven't been there. 

My parents are now leaving forever.

And that closet will soon be empty.

And I suppose those umbrellas,
through no will of their own,

will finally see rain.