do we really understand
at the end of the month
of March? It's almost
simple math:
you tell April
what your plan is,
and she tries not to laugh.
A silent witness to herself
with no one else to tell,
and patient and calm
as the inside
of a church bell,
her grim blades of rain
extricate spiders
from their spouts
so the sun that has been hidden
away in all things all along
can come out.
