The loose refuse twinkles with dewy drops – sparkly garbage ornaments decorate every alley.
Everyone is lazy, slowly moving, barking less, smiling more. They look scrubbed and fresh too as though they spent the night under a downspout.
The air, fresh and suffused with richness, shook clean of dust, odor, and heat. The breeze plays it cool.
Filaments of sharp, crisp, verdant smells are layered over a rich earthiness.
Feet have trampled the casualties, melting them into a carpet of pink blossoms, a tribute to the wind, a cushion for my soul.
Mud tracks, previously roads, gush with silty water making sandy, dusty swirls as the sun bakes their waters to steam.
A drip drop is all that is left. Enough to quench no thirst but my ear, wanting to hear, for one moment more, the rain song.
Beautiful!
You are a spectacular writer! I am truly envious 🙂
What a gorgeous poem!
Thanks Mom – it was an inspiring rainstorm 🙂
My dear, I think you have a career as a poet/writer in your future! This is beautiful-I feel as tho I can see what you’re writing.
You are too kind Erin – but glad you could see what I was seeing through the words 🙂 Sometimes hard to capture everything through photos…they just don’t describe it quite right.