#poetry #Covid19
April Showers
A vicious wind hurls raindrops and bits
of aborted April branches studded with
leafbuds that will never bloom against the
screens with the unconscious artistry of
an expressionist in a trance, all the while
singing in a familiar voice I can't quite
place. Echoing in a neuron corridor
littered with the leftovers of another life
begging to be remembered. But the
synapses are too wet to fire.
Out of the corner of my eye I catch the
smoky outline of a man I thought was you
but isn't. But he has a way about him. Or
maybe he doesn't.
Maybe it's just the
leftovers of desire aborted when you fell
into the unmarked grave I visit in my
dreams and decorate with the parts of me
I’d saved for the glorious entwining that
now, hunched silent on a splintered bench,
mocks me with dead flowers and a smile.
And this is how I am in these dark days
of death and more death as cold April rain
batters the windows, muddies the earth
and sings the names of the fallen in the
unprejudiced language of grief.
© 2020 RC deWinter
Published in “The Red Wheelbarrow Review”
@RSavinaR July 2020
#Art: Sad Remains © 2015 RC deWinter
Good evening and thanks to all who read/shared the #poem “April Showers” I hope the evening is being good to you. #StaySafeBeWell
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