This happened yesterday as I enjoyed the first coffee of the day.
The early morning rain falls gently
the drops spaced out so evenly
one may walk between them
without becoming wet.
The drops stir up scents of earth
and leaves and fresh mown grass,
a sacred autumnal fragrance
unmatched by mall store candles.
The pleasant petrichor rises up,
mixes with the bitter sweetness of my coffee.
I inhale November’s tonic, savoring this,
the only vintage of the year.