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When that first drop fell
I could still feel the heat
shimmering waves on the pavement
I wouldn't have noticed
but the smell is unmistakable
Everything clean and perfect
It reminds me of home
of perfect outside summers
standing on the deck
to see thunder and lightning
Of being eight again
barefoot, grubby
That smell is time to go home
paper dolls and coloring books
strawberry leather and homemade popsicles
inside games and a fort made of pillows
I want to know if the smell
is the same the world over
I think not
Home is magical trees
with perfect rainbows stretching mountains
But, I wonder
Does your rain smell like home?
- COMMENTS
buttersalmost 13 years agoyou tapped into one of those shared-with-most-readers experiences... the smell released as the first rain hits the overheated ground. a poem that manages to embrace the reader this way is already halfway home.
not the best i've read by a long shot, but a pleasurable few moments' read nonetheless. ty
