sweet lightning dripping through the cracks of heaven
guards the downward path of rain –
clouds bleed cold essence this time of the year,
and the skin of thoughts shivers, smiling.

rain falls,
digging randomly for ant eggs and yarrow leaves
and for orphan bushes
under the Fibonacci pine spirals.

night blossoms tender and humid along the branches of time,
taking root mongst eyelashes.

inside the old hut,
the tea kettle whistles mildly,
letting the cup know
that it’s going to be filled with essence of memories,
mirroring in the tisane
drops of the soul.

old, the eye spills blinks over the darkness,
remembering a time when the same scent of rain
stained with resin and night
sheltered silent hands
shivering together –
“this was a good sunset…”

night crawls along the clouds,
shutting slowly their wounds.

the souls of pine trees,
absorbed with a spongy thirst by a sea of milky foam,
now rise to heavens,
to join there
the ghosts of erstwhile words





© Liliana Negoi

2 Responses to “drizzle”
  1. granbee says:

    This is SUCH a complete picture of a rainy evening near pine trees with cold fingers grateful for hot tea cups and enjoying the sunset after the thunderstorm has passed. Very much the kind of evening we have had some days recently in NW Alabama!

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