April Showers

April sent forth a shower of riverside catkins, In the rainy Southern town I set sail among blooming seas of lotus deities. Fell through the bamboo ceiling, Calling out your archaic name, On the cobblestones it echoed, I watched Fallen dynasties, rising for that tragic destiny Into pearls of closed, red-tapered doors loneliness seeping into the walls of your inner city. And yet you played for me under the petals and cherry, I listened until the wind swept plums down from the tree. We came and went, skipped the dull middle When brown encroached And gold was but fleeting. And yet it is the season of dead leaves, The mirror says otherwise Reflecting you, fine and featureless Everlasting spring.