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Martin Walls
Poet
I live in Solvay. So that’s where the image originates. I see Solvay in the distance when I’m driving home from the city. So I’ve seen storms brewing. Because that’s there the weather in Syracuse starts, I guess—Solvay being the first of the smaller villages on the outskirts of Syracuse to get the weather coming from the west.

And then, one of the first things you notice driving at Solvay, say along Route 690, by the lake, are the seagulls. When a storm comes—I know this from my childhood home in England, where there are lots of seagulls—they start to get very antsy.

The cloud of umbrellas, I’m imagining. A sort of metaphorical pun. The storm clouds become a cloud of umbrellas, which are also thick and black.

Storm over Solvay—
Bright gulls skirl about a thick
Cloud of umbrellas

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