Texas rain arrives with its own slow truth, slipping down from a sky that remembers everything, touching the land like a hand on a fevered brow, cooling what the sun has burned into silence. Old stories rise with petrichor and scent of wet dust~ hoofbeats, wagon wheels, cattle drives, and children’s bare feet~ each droplet carries memories of this vast land, releasing them into the open air. When the storm finally drifts away, the ground shimmers with secrets it never meant to share. accompanying memoir vignetted at: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/secrets_of_texas_rain_13713
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