I love the smell of rainfall
in winter.
The cold, wet, loaminess;
growth happening
beneath dampening dirt.
Little sprigs of green
between grey snow drifts,
melting drop by drop.
And little shining orbs:
rainwater on fallen leaves
from autumn past.
I breathe deep,
satisfied in my soul.
Rooted deep to earth
through sight, smell
and the mystery of life,
growing gently
in the winter rain.
a simple man 