Illustrated by Vivien Yuan
There are weeds stretching between the pavement cracks.
I dedicate late evenings to ripping them;
Determined, I tug and pull from their brittle roots,
but when the sun mounts, they emerge again.
When exhaustion takes over and I can no longer trim,
they catch my legs like tangled seaweed.
Starting over seems too heavy a job.
I could try again tomorrow.
After an unexpected furious rainstorm,
Violets, Daisies, and Bluebells
decorate the split concrete,
and I am least concerned about the weeds growing.