PETRICHOR

- Meyenka Baishya

I plucked a flower,
A drop swayed on me,
Thought it was a dew,
Few more drops fell on me,my flower,
Realised it was rain,
It started in few drizzles,
Then accelerated itself,
With lightning and thunder,
It wetted the ground,
It wetted dust on the window panes,
Washed the whole land,
Quenched the thirst of its scarcity,
As it stopped,left behind something
Which filled my nostrils with
The mild,soothing,refreshing earthy fragrance.
          "The Petrichor...!!!!!!!"