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SG Holter
Poems
Mar 2015
Petrichor
(n) the pleasant, earthy
smell after rain.*
I run the palms of my soul over
Spring's yawning breeze.
It leaves its scent on everything.
Pavement dark with drops of what
Would have been snow
Only weeks ago.
I breathe until my lungs hurt,
And exhale smiling.
Clouds black as midnight withdraw
To reveal a crimson sundown
Forcing orange upon foliage;
Warming every leaf cradled drop
Until they're vapour.
Now that the ice
And snow are gone,
I giggle, and step on every
****** crack I
Can find.
Written by
SG Holter
Fenstad, Norway.
(Fenstad, Norway.)
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