2017. március 2., csütörtök

Tere Sievers: July Rain

The sudden storm
flashes and rumbles
the ozone air a tonic
for the humid afternoon.
I stand waiting
at the screen door
as the hard rain digs
puddles in the dirt.
I remember young Julys,
the mud under my feet
thick, warm and soft.
The cloudburst passes.
I push open the door,
smell the air
and drop my shoes.

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