espresso

This morning my computer, believing

I never left the southern hemisphere

welcomes me to autumn with a flurry

of pixelated burnt orange leaves

decorating my name almost personably.

I look out the window to this heavy grey

first day of spring, yesterday’s rain set in

with a real-feel of minus 3,

the occasional car whooshes through

puddled streets, the usual blackbirds

drowned out by a squall of nearby sirens,

all the more acute in a small town.

My thoughts fly to the bridge,

inclemency, wordless prayers

and the serious novelty of planning

a walk to a café in the next country

where a double espresso

with whipped cream and a scattering

of chocolate buttons will reward me

as I marvel at equilibrium,

wonder how a man rides his bicycle

in a downpour through traffic

so smoothly – one hand on the handle

bar, the other holding steady

an open umbrella above his head.

Surely there are times it is only fitting

we should move through life

in celebratory leaps and bounds,

at others incrementally as earthworms;

perhaps the trick is to remember

it can be perilous to get it wrong

in either case …

puddle

 

Advertisements