April’s Last

 

 

Soon will be May again

That darling month of poems, flowers,

Gaiety and holidays

Till then though, 

April will hold fast

To its power to sway

The fragile moods of humans

With wind, sun, buds and storms

Performing their spontaneously choreographed dance

Raw and intemperate

In full, unceasing view of us all

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2012

A poem by Franklin Oliver 

 

 

 

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