Dirt


Like a sprinkler. Light drizzle. I waited until the downpour was over. Like a shower. Fresh. That’s the first word I think of. Then cold. Cold but not freezing. I know spring is here. Soon enough the lilacs will be here. I can almost smell the sweetness. My sweatshirt started to soak up the rain. Slowly. As the water started to reach my skin, I felt a light chill. Nothing that made me want to turn around, enough to make me feel cold.

The cold makes me feel alive. I can feel myself. Every piece of me can feel it. They are there, attached. My own.

Green grass is coming back. I like that too. A new beginning for the forest, hopefully a new beginning for me.  I like the country, for rain sounds beautiful on dirt roads. Better than on pavement. You can here the dirt as the water hits it. Someday I will be part of the dirt. Dirt is nice.

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