Sitting in a lawn chair can be lonely if you
don’t open your ears to the conversation that
the blades of grass are having with each other.
And I always laugh on rainy days because
the grass would squeal beneath my sneakers.
Nothing excites me like the start of a storm,
where dampness floods the sky but my skin
I used to be on the tennis team. My mother
made me do a sport even though I wasn’t
fond of the whole running thing. And I loath
competition, so I didn’t bother getting better.
I spent most of those practices gossiping
with friends and thinking about the weather.
During last period, when the smell of rain
filled the room, I couldn’t help but smile
because you can’t play tennis on wet courts.
Days like this, I would rush down the street
to the Chinese restaurant for a bowl of
vegetable soup and a spring roll.