Anuja Ghimire was born and raised in Kathmandu, Nepal. She lives near Dallas, TX with her husband and two little girls in the U.S. She works in the e-learning industry and writes poetry and flash fiction. Her works have found home in various online and print journals and anthologies. A Pushcart and Best of the Net-nominee, Anuja is grateful for poetry and poets.

Previously in Glass: A Journal of Poetry: Saffron

Anuja Ghimire

The Summer of Endless Rain

for Pie Lee Tang and Victoria Tang After my neighbor died in spring, her daughter gave me a key to water plants in the backyard There our fences meet Victoria had thought she would stay longer this time with her old mother and the blossoms Every sunset, I reach in the envelope for the key Mrs. Tang leaves her front yard in her walker. The wheels bump on the grass. The metal bars thud in her pale, spotted hands. Mrs. Tang watches my daughters grow in the driveway I pull one baby from the stroller and set her on a tricycle Another crawls on our porch and hops on a scooter Victoria rakes fallen oak leaves like every November and clears the way When her mother reaches the mail box, it rains.

Often, I experience life in poems and poems in life. When my neighbor's daughter handed me a key to her backyard, I felt the inception of this poem. My neighbor's eyes lit up every time she interacted with my very young children. The passing of a light and the rising of my glowing children feels as natural and delicate as summer rain. This is for my neighbor and her loving daughter.

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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