An April day: the sun cracks through a rift
In stubborn clouds and lays a sudden hand
Upon the wind, which warms in turn the land
So every bud can feel the coming shift
To summer’s reign. And what a buoying lift,
In seeing April gain the upper hand,
To us, who tire of March and March’s brand
Of winter.–But quickly gone is April’s gift:
A smartly scudding cloud Just overran
The sun, and–br-r-r-~we have our March again!
by Ray Romine Wednesday, April 12, 1944
