Sakura
  
  
 It was a tune, a light air,
 in the second or third piano book.
  
 You practiced all that wet spring,
 young girl with vast imagining.
  
 I recall how you would look
 out through the glass door
  
 at the April rain streaming,
 turn back to practice, to dreaming
  
 of pink blossoms, of blooming.
  
  
 Leslie Schultz 

I found the image above yesterday. Tim and I took a walk downtown. I carried an umbrella which I needed on the way home as we encountered one of those delightful brief storms when it rains as the sun is shining. We sheltered for a few moments under the awning of the Blue Monday Coffee Shop, where I saw these other umbrellas in two- and three-dimensions.