Chirping of the coffee grinder from the kitchen
while grandfather is waiting for the weather report
My feet ice from the lawn and
I’m waiting for the milk to be heated
He scratches his unshaven cheeks
gets up and walks up to the barometer on the wall
taps
needle hacks to Very Dry
he hums
returns
Grandma’s body against my back
her scent
when she pours the steaming milk and blend out
with cocoa
I take a loaf of bread and see
the lake Mälaren far down
a sailboat
Islands
When I´m finished eating
grandfather strokes with his fist over his chin and
does a sound from long way down the throat
until the radio voice is finished
He walks up to the barometer again
taps
turns around and smiles
Well, then, I am here again. So it goes.
He start to rake the grass
and I
say that pirates were sighted at Malings bay
that it is best to help the Pig farmer against them
and ask if Grandma wants to come with me
but she is baking buns for the eleven coffee
When I walk out the door
I see grandfather in front of the barometer again
He taps
He turns
He smiles
Peter Nyberg 
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