The branches of the avocado tree reach and span the width of the garage roof,
Set firm and steady on its twisted trunk,
The leaves stand tall, a giant mushroom, slick with rain,
Glistening black green and swaying gently under the moonlight.
The midnight purple sky, illuminates the four am morning,
And street lights turn gold with rain shower.
Winter flowers pass their scents on the wind,
Trading themselves across the heavens,
Riding on the backs, of dancing, silvery clouds.
Treetops stretch languidly across the hill in front of me,
And fat warm drops of sea fall from the sky,
Creating a symphony of music kissing the tin drains,
Drumming out percussion…
Ping-ding on car roofs.
A stream runs gracefully under the cool concrete somewhere in the distance behind me,
Bubbles trickle and pop down the hillside,
Soaking into the red earth,
Dampening the terrain with life.
Rain barrels collect the plop, plop, splash, rainy season,
And the soppy streets smell cool and serene.
Magical moonbeam powers.
