first day of april

remember that girl I'm sure you can

she had dark hair and you were never

sure of the color of her eyes but once

you saw her alone and she took a

mandarin orange out of her purse and

outside the rain was weaving mossy

patterns on the tree-bark, april creeping

in blossoms of green and the wild feral

promise of life swelling the bare-branches,

tiny yellow flowers harkening the chaos

to come as the season switched itself and

she was all alone while the rain held its

breath and she scraped the rind with

her fingers, opening a small space of

time and the juice ran down her bird-

boned wrist, perfect colorless rivulet

running to rest in the cotton of her blue dress

do you remember that girl I'm sure

you can.