Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Gizelle Verduzco

Light taps of rain cleanse the earth,
Almost like a toddler running on top of my roof.
A mirage of grey tears fall from the dim sky,
The sun disappears into an abyss.
The crackling release of built stress falls with every drop,
And emotions pour onto the leather book in my hand.
A petrichor since birth,
Clean dirt ferments my nose.
A taste of freedom that breaks through my lips,
It dresses me in warmth and comfort.
Protecting me from the sharp winds that consumed me.
It teases me by tapping on my window,
Compelling me to see the damage that it could create.
It looks at me with wolf eyes,
Calm and composed with a threatening stare.
For all the destruction that it could bring me,
I am relaxed and protected by the walls I have built.


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