A Day in April

What happens when a survivor
Wants to stop surviving?
This piece of identity
Crumbling

What happens when the birds
Make her so happy,
But their songs fly
Like their wings?

What happens is, even when
April is new-born and sunny,
There is an understanding
Of what Eliot meant

When he said April is the cruelest month.

 

This is so not the poem I intended to write, but life has a way of throwing stuff at us, right? Hooray for being able to respond to NaPoWriMo day 23 and the Weekly Scribblings at PSU.

3 thoughts on “A Day in April

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s