It Was a Birthday

Sun

I put on my fancy black skirt, the ankle-length billowing thing

with golden stripes all over

my large chessboard pattern ear studs

and a simple white collared shirt I didn’t iron

because I hate ironing

and I don’t mind some wrinkles

but it’s not that bad.

At the café the sun yellows the whole space

pouring through the windows the morning sun,

final days of summer in Finland

the marble tabletop cluttered with debris from our grand breakfast

consisting of fresh pineapple chunks

pumpkin seeds and strawberry jam

cucumbers sliced thick and oval

as if they were going someplace in a hurry

watermelon and honeydew and different cheeses

and of course cake and bread baked with raisins

but you don’t like raisins in a bread

I take some, though, to celebrate.

We are drinking our third cup of coffee

I think about the small humorous note

on display at my workplace with Darth Vader

and the words “Come to the Dark Side, We Have Coffee”

I have my journal you are reading

Sam Shepard’s plays

because he died and that makes you sad.  

It is your birthday but

I have always been a terrible cake baker

I am a fabulous eater, though, and today

I am treating you to a fancy breakfast

wearing my fancy black skirt, the ankle-length billowing thing

with golden stripes all over

there is some prosecco waiting for us back home, cooling in the fridge

and while we are driving I touch your beard under your chin

I put on some music

Regina’s Paras aika vuodesta

it’s about August

I caress your right ear the way I do when we are driving

and tell you happy birthday.

The sky is blue some clouds but the sun is out the sun is out

it is a warm morning

kesän taittuessa vähitellen syksyksi/as summer slowly dissolves into fall

the lake sparkles and the yellow August light is inside the car

if you shut down the news

you might even say it’s a wonderful day.

Words in italics from Paras aika vuodesta, by Regina, lyrics by Iisa Pykäri; translation is mine.