Sunday, 3 May 2020

Petrichor



The golden fluid flows 
through the immortals’ veins
But after weeks the earth has turned to stone.
Helios, behind some sketchy cloud
Is not quite hid,
But Zeus, during the night let loose his rains
And now his energy is mostly spent.
And this morning, who could ask for more,
Heaven on earth 
as earth to heaven sends its scent
Not just of flora but of petrichor?

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