PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the air, somber grey clouds afloat like

hulking ships seen from the bottom of the sea. 

In the soil, damp grasses lay

content and without contention . 

In between, the moist air hangs with

a distinct freshness akin to little else. 

At long last the dust does not rise

to meet me as I walk,

my shadow is for once absent,

and the drought has met its stubborn end. 

Parched plants sip their fill from roots like straws,

drawing from almost empty cups.

Burrowed reptiles awake,

Eager to greet their old friend

Monsoon. 

If we could hear their conversation

It would be somewhat like this:

First reciprocated smiles, a hello,

Too long it's been old pal,

why don't you stay for awhile and please

next time, don't stay away so long.