Last day of April—
 
on a lonely mountain road
 
a crow seeks its voice.

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
tell me what I need to know
 
before April goes.

 
 
 

Late April morning—
 
a thousand dandelions
 
light my neighbor’s yard.

 
 
 

April sustenance—
 
while I feast on poetry,
 
the tea water boils.

 
 
 

In the April dusk
 
a messenger at my door
 
begs to be let in.

 
 
 

While circling the block,
 
I keep searching for flowers—
 
April pilgrimage.

 
 
 

The tea water boils
 
while I choose a book to read—
 
April abundance.

 
 
 

April afternoon—
 
a girl tries to coax a wren
 
to eat from her hand.

 
 
 

poring over maps
 
and plotting out new journeys—
 
April antsiness

 
 
 

In the April rain
 
a vine on a whitewashed wall
 
sends out new green leaves.