The skies have opened

Raindrops are chasing each other unrestrainedly

A cool zephyr ripe with pleasant petrichor is blowing

Cinereous clouds play catch

A young lad lets loose a lambada jig

Drenched to the core

Two girls place paper boats delicately in the puddle

Shielding themselves with umbrella

It’s a beautiful evening

But my petulant heart wants more

It wants you by my side.

16 thoughts on “Petulant

  1. Ah, a poem that moves me to reach for the dictionary (cinereous, and then petrichor — I love that smell –and why not zephyr, since I’m here), and then leap to youtube and watch a lambada! I read recently that love is precision, and your precise languaging is a joy here. Great poem on many levels.

    Liked by 2 people

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