April 14, 2011 § Leave a comment

By Daniel Alfred Nye

It’s already April
And all the trees are still dead
It’s already April
No one is in love
Because the blossoms have not sprung
From Spring’s bosom
These people
Go on pretending that one day
They will meet their match
Their complement
Yet they always settle for less
I’ve never fallen in love
In the Spring-time
And I never will
Because it’s only April
And the song-birds don’t sing
For you, for me, for them
So we can watch the dead trees
In silence


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