The Irony of April

First Daffodil

The Irony of April

Surrounding herself with daffodils and wearing woolen socks
She sits in her sunroom
Watching the snowflakes fall
Wrapped in gossamer and heavy cashmere sweaters
She sings a robins song
Whistling the tune of peepers and mudpuppies
She rocks to the sound of the north wind
As it rattles the frosted windowpane
And shakes the pollen sugared cedars
At her dancing and mud booted feet
Scattered piles of stacked
Seed catalogues and dusty novels
Wrinkled faded forms
With penciled in blanks
Orders for fields of sunflowers
Waiting for the soil to warm
Under the sleet covered ground

14 thoughts on “The Irony of April

  1. It’s a cold April here in Scotland so far, too. My MIL asked if I had any plans for the garden – we live in a nearly new house, so the garden is not developed in any way. Letting it thaw and then dry out a bit seems favourite just now.

  2. ha. there is def irony in our weather…you call this spring? luckily in my neck of the woods it has warmed up a bit…just a bit…still a might cool for spring…but no snow, thank goodness…

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