I remember my coffee on a rainy day

It's raining hard and heavy
Since morning
After stoning the whole night
It is now throwing arrows at a sliding soul. 

I go to the kitchen
And take two pieces of bread
No lavishness today
A thin layer of butter will be able to cover 
the rough surfaces of a hungry body and cranky mind. 

'Butter'
What a nice word! 
A white oily substance makes the dry dull bread creamy and edible
And when it adds to 'fly', 
I seem to chase a flimsy beauty in the flower garden. 
At childhood...

But the rainy day soaked my buttered bread 
And dampened my dry heart 
And stopped me from chasing 
a dream, long-held
I see a big big big group of she he they you 
buttering the right side of the bread
And I am falling down falling down falling down

Then, I remember my coffee, 
a fuming potion in a Turrbalic cup.

Umme Salma
17/05/2023, UQ
first posted in "Salma's Silent Sounds" 
https://www.facebook.com/your.ummesalma