My friends say that I am like a solitary monk
that I am a hermit
a recluse and sometimes
I believe them like I believe the calendar that tells me it is April

Who really knows what “April” even is
the name of months are birthed from languages’
named just as babies are named
and in their vowels and consonants can be found  
nestled
a promise of life’s yearly renewal
cyclical forgiveness,  do-overs

but I do not know what April is I just agreed to it like the rest of us and do not know what a monk is so perhaps