The sheet is nearly dried up when a drizzle came,
like a teenager bereft of a playground that is caused by the sudden downpour...
my mother rush to the backyard from the kitchen with a t-shirt covering her head,
her voice is whining sharp yet low,
she is nodding, telling me: it is almost dry son...
I told her, I’m sorry mama, I didn’t notice,
don’t worry there is still a sun tomorrow.
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