The Smell Of Rain

The Smell Of Rain short poem

Photo by 4nitsirk


Such things are rare now:
the smell of rain
of preceding nights
going stale.
And the potted plants
keep back the reek
like memories
as do their counterparts
keep scarred holes—
gaping blank like a
blind eye—
on the ageing trunk
till the child inside the raving
blood feels driven into
its dark vicinity.

It opens up his nostrils
each impervious crevice;
and the blind eye
becomes a window
wherein lies the smell
exactly the same
that outlived
both age and forgetfulness.

He smelt the day
he didn’t like
to go to school
long years back:
how
he had loved to be at home
to watch the grey above
replete with the smell
of rain
which he called
Happiness…

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Diptesh Augustine Sarkar

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Diptesh Augustine Sarkar lives in Serampore, West Bengal and teaches English. His works feature in The Enchanting Echoes 2014 published by The Poetry Society India. An avid reader, Sarkar writes Poetry and Short stories revolving chiefly around the subaltern middle class against urban cityscape. With a novel awaiting publication and another in the making, Sarkar shuffles between the guitar, the piano, and the pen.
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