Like an anecdote, April reminds me of
warmth of childhood, smell of potting
soil soaked in rain, new lives
emerging from the same dull root
that decided to hibernate.
What I have lost, time, maybe.
What I have gained is safely
rested on pages of a red book,
like woven cotton fabrics
from my Grandma’s closet,
neat, vivid, and layered.
There are pieces of me that
want those memories to sing now,
as if it is the month
that makes me whole,
makes me connected to the earth.
And I say to April: stay for a while.
And I say to myself: type her a poem.
And I say to my fingers: this is
why you are here.
The first day of April and A to Z Challenge is dedicated to the alphabet A. And dedicated to the month April.