Soft, moist, loamy soil,
Petrichor nests in my nose
Autumn’s aroma.
How does it work?
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More stories from Julia Sinton and writers in Poets and other communities.
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By Julia Sinton3 years ago in Poets
The English language has its limits. I learned this when I became a student of the Bible and looked up the Greek and Hebrew definitions behind the Scriptures I loved. Some languages have so much more depth and power than the one I use to convey my thoughts. But, even so, I don't think any word could ever come close to describing this void and pain I am journeying through. I don't know how to swim through its murky waters.
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