After the Storm

Close up photography of wet leaves

Battered by wind and deafened by thunder,
convinced you’ll never make it through alive.
Huddled in shelter you’ve hidden under,
until you decide that you will survive.

The raindrops slow down from many to few.
No longer do you need your defenses.
When darkness succumbs to light seeping through,
the earth’s rebirth wafts into your senses.

It fills the empty spaces inside you
with memories of mud puddles that swirl.
The smell of grass, and leaves, and soil, and dew,
and apple blossoms starting to unfurl.

You will know what you weathered the storm for,
when you smell the sweetness of petrichor.


Poem by Kathryn Kass.

Kathryn Kass resides at the edge of the world in Hancock, MI near the shores of Lake Superior with her husband and two small boys. By day she works as a physician assistant and by night spends her time doctoring sentences. Her poetry has appeared in Wingless Dreamer, Pomme Journal, and Tiny Seed Journal.