It’s open link night over at the dVerse Poets’ Pub!
I’ve not seen it,
but the damp-dirt fragrance
of petrichor (that musky mystique!)
dazzles my blind mind’s eye.
Rain’s shimmer—an almost-sound—
splash-dancing thirsty lawns,
razored lightening slicing;
silencing
Thunder’s echoed moans
then,
Sunshine sings a bow of rain
in colors I can hear.



Tell it like it is