Narrative Poetry: Rainy Day13
I love it when it rains. The fresh air reminiscent of an ocean
I’ve never gotten to visit.
But today the mist smells of fish.
A stagnant pond in moldy grass,
rancid river streaming across asphalt,
faint wet dog… without any canines present.
Must be my rain soaked faux fur jacket; I guess
faux fur is similar to the quality of dog coats.
A soft scent of roses lingers on my hand and I remember
our time at that winery in Augusta. Delicate petals filled the air with
their sweet fragrance at the entrance. The fire cracked and popped as
we cuddled and gulped our glasses of liquor…
everything from bitter Pinot Grigio, to peachy chardonnays,
and your favorite, black currant Cabernet.
The strong earthy aroma enveloped us
and it felt like home.
It was misty that day too.