TS Eliot says "April is the cruelest month". I choose to think otherwise. Yes it can be cold, and it can snow, and it can rain, and gray gloomy clouds fill the sky, but it is also the month of my birth, and celebrates a day of humor, and daffodils bloom, and sometimes it is warm and sunny. It is quixotic, unpredictable, and filled with promise. So I choose to love April. In honor of this very lovely month I am posting a song I wrote long ago about April snowstorms and birthdays.
April 1st.
I wake to Rain.
then sun. then clouds.
I am warm. I am cold.
I am singing.
I am hungry.
It is gray.
There are flowers purple and blue blooming in the yard.
It is April
after all.
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