Petrichor

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– That which flows in the veins of gods,

stoney-faced, lightly scented,
she whispered her dreams, onto the leaves,
into the ground. You are THISCLOSE from the sun,
she said, you’re lost found, but not for long.
For what’s coming is always greater,
but taste this moment before it’s gone.

Tricia Sankey

Image Credit

Published by Tricia Sankey

Plays with words in her free time.

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