April

rain ~
showers ~
and sometimes,
sun.

Then
( and only then)
I'll sit in our front room
wrapping cold fingers
around a steaming cup of coffee
and watch,
as the world walks past.

The crazy cat lady
who lives down our road
scurries by
talking to her imaginary friend.

How everything gleams
in this early morning light!
The rust red rooftops
the silver glint of a seagull's wings
as it flies silently by

I quietly say my prayers
for a little girl
just new to this April world
her name
magical,
falling from my lips.


Now
through the glass
I see the tops of the trees

their glittering leaves
shining with the remnants

of an April shower.


I rise,

I leave the room.


And dream.