Thursday, 21 June 2012

Petrichor


It was the kind of morning where even the discarded Kentucky Fried Chicken
cartons lying in the hedgerow looked good.

To cap it all, the moronic DJ was talking about something interesting. 
He was explaining that there is a word for the smell of rain. Petrichor.

Isn’t that something?

3 comments:

  1. Indeed it is, and even more a something is the grateful recognition this poem has followed a heartstoppingly good opening couplet with a completion not unworthy of its startling debut.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I like your writing. I like the easy way you have of carrying me along as reader. There are twists and turns. It is fun.

    ReplyDelete

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