Sunday, June 14, 2015

Petrichor

Stirred and sipped, the cup of coffee
kept me awake to see the eyes
that the little girl used to see
the damp cascading rain

Out of fear of thunderstruck,
she chased away the birds
Ran against the drizzly sight,
by the muddy grass

She's waiting the scent of the rain

She's waiting the scent of the rain

“Has it gone by now?” she thought
I jumped down the puddly ground
“Has it gone by now?” she said
I shook my head

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