that softening of spring,
that brisk air concealed as the warm
or is it the rise from darkness to light
the loss of sleep for the price of that bright
sun, that makes you want to sing
eyes adjust to the dormant brown, and the green,
then bursting forth, glorious day
the death, the rebirth, the glorious life
surely it must be it, surely it must be the sheen,
like the gentle tearing of shiny wrap
so maybe it is.
so maybe it is so.
but there is just something about april that is
a soft spot in my heart.
beauty, warmth, laughter, mystery,
richness.
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