On sunny spring days
where blue skies shine
empty
and the sun is yellow,
careless,
cold,
April sings to the
broken heart,
lonely;
this is why the poet weeps.
The breezes don’t care
that you’ve been crying;
when the showers stop falling,
the clouds fade away
to say that they’ve moved on.
And when night comes,
it grows colder;
locusts sing
in orchestral numbers,
but you sleep alone.
A contest entry
- April is the Saddest Month by ea.
600 points, ended April 15, 2008, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Interesting concept. It kind of reminds me of a song by Paul Simon that goes "April come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain" and goes on through the months to say how this girl left at the end of July and died in August. I really like the image of locusts singing in orchestral numbers- that was a very evocative turn of phrase.
-
Wow. That's all I can say. Wow. This is AMAZING! I how the tone shifts and ultimately becomes one of such deep depression, I'm in awe. This is truly wonderful, I really loved reading it. Three applause is not enough for a piece such as this.
-
oh, another sad one for April - thank you for your vote.
Adding your comment:
