A Slice of Sunshine

I twiddle a cocktail stick
and pierce a green olive
in a glass jar,
as I try to zone out my parents
boring conversation
in a London café bar.

My mind travels back in time
to last summer,
where a copper demoiselle
flutters over
a crystal-clear stream
in the sweltering
Mediterranean heat.

The damselfly now perched
on an olive tree,
just above my grandma
snoozing
in an ivory woven hammock.
Her golden Cockerpoo
by her swaying feet.

And I too
seeking shade
under the coral-peach parasol,
mindfully eating
a second helping
of torta della nonna
‘‘Italy’s best loved cake’’
with a thick buttery crust
and a creamy lemon centre.
Its warm citrine colour -
a gift from the sun above.

I watch the water droplets
trickle down the side
of my cold glass of coke
into a glistening pool at the base,
inviting me to take a dip.
I can still hear
the chirping crickets
as I take a sip.

Startled by a clatter of plates,
I wake from my deep muse,
back in London’s bleak
winter hues.
In front of me
on the smooth marble table,
A slice of torta della nonna.
I smile for the first time
that week.