Happiness from 10 percent

By Amy Saeki-Zhai

The whole carton of grape juice is gone.

Only less than 10 percent remain, making a shaking sound.

I poured it into the tiniest cup of my thumb size.

Even so, the juice didn’t fill it up enough.

Then, the sun from the window made a prism of magic.

Velvet waves rise across the rainbow bridge,

Suddenly, I felt like greeting a Bohemian emperor.