Reminensces of Petrichor

The night still sings with The memory of rain; the air Is drenched in the pungent Scent of damp earth and The grass is dripping with Starlight like liquid silver... The stars are raindrops caught On the gossamer wisps of cloud, Which hang across the sky like Ribbons; like the ghosts of rainbows... And I?- I am a ghost moving Soft like a breath in the dark, Trying to learn how to dance to The sound of a Spring night As the breeze tries to remember The words to the song it used To hum on lazy Summer evenings, But only just recalling that it had A melody like warmth...