NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Thirty

There may be one more. Or not. This was started in the wee-small hours. I appreciate all the visitors and all the poems that were shared by the April poets!

The Last before May

Why, April,
are you so fickle?
holding back words
pelting down rain
and even snow
You’ve teased and
tossed your head
and now trees are
clouds, rolling waves
upon the hills
now green again.
But you, you dance
and sing
and wave
and go again.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Thirty

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