Is just another work of nature

which has never wept for itself,

which has dug one plot in the heart

or the entire field, stunting growth

but rendering the land remarkably definite.

Each blade in faults, qualities, fate, which

I peer through and peer within:

wasted arguments, important tears

nights sheathed in light sweat turned complacent

lunches eaten in the busy heat of noon hour.

Blades turned cool to touch,

no more muffling in the grass from torrid

frustration, the relic popsicle I’m licking

not dripping for once.


Grace Ma is a second-year student at the University of Toronto, double majoring in English and Environmental Sciences. Visit Grace’s website: