Dragonflies 蜻蜓

Broken by her work, her books and papers,

Wakens to the sound of morning rain.

Jaded, gets to class, keeps quiet and listens.

Jots down a few notes and leaves the room.

Standing by the bus stop, looks up to the sky while

Mind fills with dragonflies…

Sheltered from her fears in watercolors, thinks

“Press play and let Bowie fill the room”

Works on her sketches with great patience

Mending all these broken memories,

Staring out of the window, grips onto her brush while

Canvas fills with dragonflies…