Morning dew is reborn as a heavy fog,
coating my lungs, forcing its scent upon me: marshy
musk of waterlogged soil like an old kitchen sponge
and bloated, doggy stink of a thousand earthworms
drowning; acrid puddles, sopped up with stained sneakers.
After the clouds dissolve like bickering, the worms
will rot on the playground pavement
in dry black coils.
This poem was written in response to NaPoWriMo Poetry Prompt #16: what's that smell? on Read Write Poem.
Photo by Bah Humbug
What does the smell of rain remind you of?