a great performance
Maybe the clouds had a point.
“It’s a wonderful life,”
They sang, in godly choir chorus.
I look at the calendar—
Another week in ember,
and no time for theatre.
My gaze drifts down the road—
A plastic bag lifts
off the old brick pavement.
It c s
o l
i
in the air
just enough
to dodge the screeching tires.
I watched for so long
I missed my class.
Such a silly reason,
but on my note I wrote:
I was late,
because a plastic bag was doing ballet—
and someone had to see it.
Copyright © Jasmine Tsai | Year Posted 2025
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