April, our April

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The April wind was wet with tears
The stars had shed the night before
The April sun was pruned of verse
And shone down, instead, with celestial lore

Shivering gods and  petals bright
Danced the April tune that night
And when dawn got peeled back onto the sky
The dances stopped, the gods did sigh.

April being the month of storm
For mortal ones, for those beyond,
Second-guessing immortal times
With brass bells and copper chimes

The month of so much that was wrought
Sometimes we learnt, at times we taught
Yet, strangely, the April month went by
Gods remembered us, yet we forgot.


Comments

sup said…
your writing brings back my lit classes for me .. the 'notation' of rhyme schemes and the richness of imagery. such a gift that is!
3:38 PM
Vinita said…
You have a birthday in April right? Happy birthday!
5:41 PM
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