She was thirsty and parched, 

The heat cracked her skin open. 

All she yearned for, 

Was a drop of water to soothe herself. 

Her weary eyes, were in search, 

Of that one speck of dark cloud, 

Through which a drop might fall, 

Like a glisk from the winter days. 

Days passed, and her wait continued, 

A dark patch traveled across her. 

Her eyes moistened, but alas, 

The heat dried up that tears too. 

A bigger dollop of raindrop

Fell on her and quenched her thirst. 

The glisk was finally there, 

And the petrichor delivered the welcome note. 

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash