April Fools

The warming
muzzle of sun
burrows into
budding souls
till wind changes--
turns its back,
broods, then touches
us cold
as temperatures
fall
and yes,
this is
the cruelest
month, the
naked temptress
of sateen summer.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace