april co expand

                                                                                                                                                     tolbert

morning was sadder than all of april

 

he looked at his clock and calendar at the same time
then glanced back at march before it ended
and ahead to april before it had begun.

there were no flowers spraying color or fragrance…
no breeze to push the clouds along
and no promise of hope beyond the horizon. 

it was morning and morning was sadder than all of april
—nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide—
just time—minutes really—before he had to go.

there were no birds in the sky on a day such as this…
third monday—march too far gone—
yet april too far away.

morning was sadder than all of april
and he had chosen to watch as march surrendered it’s place
to the delegation of memories.

morning pushed hard on the clouds,
moving quieter than the silence of daybreak,
waiting like a vagrant at a bus depot and with less hope for kindness.

there were no flowers spraying color or fragrance across the countryside…
and no promise of hope beyond the horizon.
morning was sadder than all of april and only fragments of march remained.