I will admit, it was the title of this poem that initially caught my eye, but it’s just beautiful. I hope you like it. Happy Thanksgiving.
April
returns like an expatriate, a defector
from the forest. Her feet are wrapped
in old rose petals, her eyes
are the color of wet sand under moss.
She guides a wounded caravan
of spiders and dilapidated memories.
Combing her dripping hair with elegant
fingers, she announces the forsythia and pain.
She waits in the summerhouse
for summer while the moon comes in empty,
a ship bearing her transparent name.
~ Richard Shelton
from The Tattooed Desert
lovely
there is also the Simon and Garfunkle song
April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain
May she will stay
Resting in my arms again
June she’ll change her tune
In restless walks she’ll prowl the night
July she will fly
And give no warning to her flight