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