Umbrella Ghostie Friendo

a poem and an elaboration of an earlier mentioned concept

Photo by Craig Whitehead on Unsplash

My ancestors taught me
not to open up umbrellas up inside
for fear of unleashing unknown spirits
into the home,

but this period of solitude
made me wonder —
are spirits not just
versions of humans,
made into ether?

There must be nice ones,
after all?

Could there be a nice one, residing?
A friend
housed in
my umbrella?

I could invite them in
for tea.

#WritingPrompt: Remembering childhood superstitions or myths you were taught but didn’t really think too hard about

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