Petrichor.

Sitting by the window, with my face pressed to the window pane

I watch as the skies cry, and I rejoice in their pain

I watch the raindrops slither, reaching the bottom of the glass

I open one window, and slowly reach out

To catch a few raindrops, in my palm

The chilly air is wafting through the open window

The lightning strikes, it’s very sudden

I pull my hand inside, in fear

I wrap a blanket around me, to ward off the chills

I see a girl from my window

Silhouetted in the street lights, dancing in the rain

With her hands outstretched

I can’t see her face, but I imagine she’s happy

She reminds me of my mother, always happy, always smiling

I wonder what she’s doing now

I look up at the skies, maybe it’s her crying

I catch a few more raindrops in my hand

“Don’t cry, mommy”, I whisper

“My hands are not big enough to catch all your tears”

Do you think she can hear me?

stock-photo-rain-stops-play-98716886


-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore

51 thoughts on “Petrichor.

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