Petrichor Sophie Myers ’19 Petrichor is the smell after it rains when the streams streaks of mud and echoes of screams are what remain shadowed circles trickled tears concealed cuts we finish class the field immersed baptized with rain sheets of it flowing gushing pouring bursting doors rain drenches us hair whipping our faces shining toes sliding whoops, laughter streaming from our lips we drip inside rain stops relief remains and petrichor
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BELMONT DAY | Echo, Volume V, Issue 1
