Petrichor

After this, the slow breath,
the weight of feet against

the pavement made grayer
with water, without absence,

when the parched earth sweats
along with creatures on its surface,

so that after this, what remains:
the division of seasons – the days

of drought and typhoons –
imagining a spirit that unveils

a mask of vapor, marking
the end and start of longing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s