After the Rain

After the rain, air;
woods heaving out
a deep, resinous breath
of respiration, decay;
palpably damp,
it smells like
rust and tea.
I inhale deeply,
exhaling again into the dappled blackness
of trees and stones and earth;
breathing into the wood’s dark mouth,
tasting.

Comments

[Ken Payton]

Rather nice poem.

[Meg Houston Maker]

Thanks, Ken. Cheers.