Two days of suddenly warm weather here in New York City brought this poem to mind,
though it’s really too early to think about it . . .
APRIL IS NOT THE CRUELEST
“Finally,” he said,
”the daffodils are here —
and all that malarkey.”
It’s a steal-worthy line
making perfectly clear
that spring has come,
and that a great matter
like the season’s arrival
faces scoffers like us
who prefer not to dote.
April is not the cruelest.
It must be June or May,
when daffodils wilt
and die away.
jh


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