Thomas McCarthy

1954 / Cappoquin

Petrichor

Our kitten turns to deliver its encomium,
Purring as if a lump of tabby quartz
Propelled it so. It shares this petrichor
With the last bumblebees seeking glamour.
Wet stones release their chatoyant gaze
As I shake Molly's cocktail shaker.
Here is quartered lime after unexpected rain:
We have lost our house, but earth is warm
Beneath your cherished tintinnabulation.
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