How I Learned To Smell The Rain

Comments (0) Issue 2, Poetry, Writing

How I Learned To Smell The Rain

A Poem for Devi Lockwood

By A.T. Halaby


I let the thunder sit on my


as I slept


as each drop of rain was paused,

waiting to


make its move toward the earth.


Just then I witnessed sets of arms

reaching out

as if meeting another

to kiss.


It’s this love I know, this love

I breathe,

it’s this warm, moist air cooling and



The thunder booming on my chest

rippling its voice through my body.


Then the lightning: the bright, bone-white

electrostatic discharge strikes


making space between the endless and

long sapphire space.


Its transformative silhouette


breaking up the blue in the

the sky


causing a temporary tear

in the earth’s canvas.


What I only see in a moment

I bet feels like a lifetime

of tiny pulsing pinches.


Poet-friend, I smell rain and I feel

tiny hands clasping around my body.

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