short poem – world of words

Petrichor

Open that door and it’s there.

The pitter of sound on the skylights

Warned

The endless rain

Soaking the plants, the ground, droplets balanced on leaves and then falling

Lines of rain

So straight

Then it stops and it’s quieter and all the glass on all the windows is blurred

Not droplets but silver grey smudges

Go outside and the smell is there

Damp earth

Petrichor

If only I had done better

If only I had tried harder to

If only

But at times I did do better

But no-one saw

But I did it for me

So that when I was feeling that I could have done more, I remember there were times when I did

A reminder that regret is almost futile

And ‘if only’ is just two words

Sometimes I am small

The stars are above

My eyes shut tight

So tiny

And the weight, the heaviness of the world is above me

Around me

I can feel small

I read and then put the book down (on the coffee table)

and the book is shut, bookmarked at a place I felt I could leave it

and go back

at will

when I choose

to the place I left off

and if only life was like that

where we could close it for a while then pick it up again at a good time, a convenient time

chapters end and begin