petrichor
it has been raining in the night
both french doors are open wide
cool damp air converses around my knees
not one flower moves except to drip occasionally
the gentle violin music flows over the scene
of my third cup of tea my third thought that
this is so serene that my fingers wander away
to type some lovely day thoughts for you
so far away where your sun has risen before it got to me
and all the garden waits expectantly
there
see there is our dunnock holding my breath
again the cat is fast asleep fast asleep
fast asleep
Jim Young is an old poet writing from his beach hut on the Gower peninsula