Best Umbrella

There is an open window in the hall
And random but particular umbrellas
Passing by, uttering words,chanting rhymes,
making sentences,evaluating every single drop of my rain,
in the contex of me.
Umbrella's tops like index fingers.

It is a constant rain outside
that waters all yhe words into no sense,
(some sentenses keep sailing till they wet)
While silense hits with flood of possibilities of meanings,
Unspecified, unintuitive,
An ultimat of logic,not articulated yet.

Each time it rains,
Streams run my stairs,
Washing away what would e otherwise content,
But in these circumstanses turns truely void.
Umbrellas still evaluate
Each cigarette I light and rain;
Quit is an absurd.
Dry is wet.