After the Rain
There is a vague sweetness in the cool desert air.
Is it creosote or sage? No, sweeter than that.
Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply,
attempting to categorize,
to label, to identify, to name:
Not rose, honeysuckle, or jasmine.
The elusive aroma—earthy but clean,
not filthy or dirty.
Difficult to pinpoint, amorphous.
Not sugary like snickerdoodle, more subtle.
Misty, dreamy, ephemeral, like cotton candy.
Eventually, I stop overanalyzing.
I sigh, deeply appreciative,
thankful to be alive today, here in this place,
on this perfect summer afternoon.
Another full, sensual breath—
and it suddenly comes to me:
scent of a rainbow!
And, opening my eyes,
sure enough, there it is.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge 173/365.
Desert Dweller 