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No ground coffee,
not in the mood for tea or to drive,
straight to the patio,
I woke up today as if still dreaming
to the noise of birds
that sounded like what I would hear
when I was a kid
in the islands several oceans away,
to the scent of grass
that reminded me of the meadow
where I caught
grasshoppers and luminous dragonflies,
and to the warm breeze
of the sun-drenched midmorning
when I used to walk
by the river before the browning of April,
then I went inside,
after smoking a couple of Marlboro reds,
awake and wondering
how I would tackle the sink full of dishes.

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