It came, not in pin pricks,
but, like a gutter gushing out from the skies,
releasing pent up emotions that were bloating
in the heat of summer, smelling like the rotten leaves
that carpeted the backyard, next door.
Off late, it’s been elusive,
Teasing and oppressing our senses
before finally letting loose an onslaught.
And, it didn’t rain, it poured,
banging windows, slamming doors, and washing away
the grime and soot from parched hearts.
Somewhere in the city, traffic stopped,
drains overflowed, power tripped, and,
maybe some of our woes just increased.
But, nothing compares to the smell of wet mud.
Oh, Petrichor! keep the romance alive,
and, let it rain some more.