Pier 21 Prompt Response
Petrichor
The scent of rain after a storm
I loved the scent of rain on hot pavement.
The thought of all the grit and dust and dirt
being swept away. Loved the feeling of drops
hitting my skin, absorbing into my shirt.
I loved the formation of rainbows in the sky.
I would drop my things and rush outside
each sunny day with plump, gray clouds,
to stand witness to the falling crowd.
I adored the sound, in its spectrum of rhythms
and speeds and tone,
playing in ensemble with thunder,
or whispering tranquility alone.
You called it one of my quirks
and you gave me the ever same look
of playful irritation, a rolling of the eye
arms crossed around your chest and you’d smile.
You were a girl that worshipped the sun,
as the outdoors were your home,
that your childhood did not provide,
and I loved you despite but,
sometimes you’d leave, leaving me to abide.
I loved the scent of rain,
as once I could smell the petrichor,
it meant you’d come home.
Here I stand, now alone,
with my nose going numb,
It is late; I should sleep,
yet it rains and I weep.
Thank you, Willow Schroeder, for the prompt.
