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...
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