petrichor & ambrosia

drops of nectar
bleed from the horizon
where dawn touches the day;
honey gold sun
pierces through the sky;
the smell of fresh-cut grass
early mornings, flowers and dew
and dark nights and new lights –
quiescent solace –
is sweetly clean and crisp

saccharine lingers in the air.

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Published by

❄︎ chloe ❄︎

write before you forget

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