april is the cruelest month
says the girl born in spring

i've opened the door, to close it
so many times.  admired sunrise
to curl up in the dark and weep

you'll remember the colors, the breeze.
how temperate, how hopeful the season.

& she
hot, cold, gone -

on her stoop,  hands on her hips
her legs akimbo - a child

the waves rising from asphalt
her dancing calves

she'll wipe her brow -- say finally
and go.

& they'll say: but winter is over
see the days grow long -

all ask:  what happened in april?
springtime was coming around.