St John’s (after Van Morrison)

birds chirp 
the trees of 
St John’s 

and I’ve fine 
coffee from 
Guatemala

the sun streams
through and a friend
calls unexpectedly 

we talk about 
the things 
that matter 

art
love
freedom 

and how 
far we’ve 
traveled 

I look in 
the mirror 
and ask myself 

‘Wouldn’t it be great
if it was like this
all the time?’