April Flirts With Spring

April first drives up in a new Lamborghini, Everyone knows it is one of her foolish tricks She will be driving a beat-up pickup farm truck In thirty days, when time comes to start the planting. April, she flounces between winter and summer, Calling herself spring but she is, frankly, confused. By the tenth, she is tossing around snow flurries She grins crazily; our warm coats are put away. Next day or so her temperatures are soaring, The snow has melted, and we are donning our shorts. What the old folks always call "Blackberry Winter" Strikes with vengeance, temperatures in the thirties, April says maybe that heavy sweater will do. She laughs by tax-filing day with strong gusty wind Though ornamental trees are beginning to bud, There's talk of late frost, April does not seem to care. Another few days, and she lets the top down so Warm breezes are embracing the faint scent of lime. When April suggests a warm spring is here to stay A blast of Arctic air nips buds with frosty dew In a warm day or two, sure enough, April comes Driving her pickup truck full of mulch and manure, April plants the sturdy vegetables like kale. Despite late frost, the tulips will soon burst open Gentler rains, and April may settle down for good. SIXTH PLACE WINNER Written April 11, 2021 for "April Poetry Contest" sponsored by Regina McIntosh