The wind has died down,
the rain has ended, only sound
the slow drip of waterdrops
from the drainpipes, I inhale deep
the smell of land after rain,
the smell of petrichor,
and try to imagine my distant
muse of the enticing words
standing beside me on the open
window, dropping her pen
down on the dark green grass
below, and bending to look
down, opening herself,
unclothed, for me.
11.07.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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