“the cruellest month”

style

title courtesy T.S. Eliot

This is the fickle month.

April

is like the quick fox in all the folktales,

the grouch in the neighborhood IRL,

and songs with gray hues

on the Web.

 

April is almost awful, but not quite.

Growing pains,

from March to May.

Regardless,

it’s
pretty.

Cruel and pretty—

April is as much the month

of puffy-flowered gardens as it is

the cold jewels on the roses.

 

It hasn’t rained much here,

but every plant is blooming.

This has been an ugly week,

but it’s already Wednesday,

and so we know

we can soldier forward.

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edited (formatting): 26 May 2017

 

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