I drink
coffee with Cuban rum
and coconut cream.
I celebrate the beginning of summer
by planting forty maple seeds
into a wooden bin.
In three years they will be ready for training.
I wonder,
how many of them will survive
and become my bonsai woodland.
I wish I could have tiny birds to chirp
and better yet children
to climb the branches
or at least a turtle
to shuffle on the miniature turf.

The thunderstorm runs in full blast again
for the seventh afternoon in a row.
Windowpanes rattle
and lightings blink nonstop.
I love
the first swoosh of water
when drizzle turns into rain
and sudden darkening of the sky.
This evening it has a golden undertone,
as if I look through a yellow glass.

Today on my morning jog
I saved two dehydrated earthworms.
They looked particularly ugly.
The tips, head and tail, were
much darker almost black,
their skinny bodies wiggled
on the sunlit asphalt
every move getting lighter.
Even birds did not like them.

I drink coffee with Cuban rum.
I wish I could share it with a friend,
but he is on the other side of the globe
having his own rain.
I wish I could help the neighbor
who lost her dog.
I wish I could spit and roses
start growing right on the spot.

I drink coffee with Cuban rum
and coconut cream.
I did not say a single word today
but I dreamed.