Rainy Field

The park after the rain.

The grass a darker green,

shiny with leftover drops.

And the soccer field,

its bright white lines

from Saturday's game,

blurred and spreading.

Just faint, ghost-streaks now,

bleeding into the wet earth.

Boundaries dissolving,

the rules washing away

with every drop that soaked in.

Like a promise made in dust,

or a plan sketched on sand,

easy to draw,

and easier to erase.