Out of the house and onto the street,
I notice something in the air, something quite sweet.
It’s the fragrance of rain from yesterday’s downpour,
There’s a name for that smell, ah yes petrichor.
Everything is slightly different, seemingly the same,
Washed and clean from the drops of rain,
The fallen dates have become a brown mush,
And the dust has disappeared from tree and bush,
I notice a snail, its shell the colour of snake,
A tortoise under cover, not quite awake,
But best of all is the splashing of uncoordinated feet in a muddle,
As all ages of children jump from puddle to puddle.