It’s a fancy word for the simple
sound of leaves whispering in the breeze.
We like to name things. Especially when
we don’t understand them: illnesses, moods, stars,
scent of a baby’s scalp at midnight.
That earthy, pleasant scent we all know
but can’t quite describe from rain falling
on dry ground. A word from Greek
“petra” for stone but “ichor” for what
flows in the veins of the gods.