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Yana Djin: April Elegy
Seventeenth April is upon us Father
calendar counts the days years
and the space tightens, gathers
into a string that tears
and rips
days like beads scatter
with a shrill
and again April is here
with its sun of brass
and its moon of steel
no crueler than any other month
and no kinder
just the somber monotony of the bland
fed by the force of habit
April with its sunrays shivers
like a newborn rabbit
shimmers in the moonlight
upon the water steers
dissolves
disintegrates
disappears
Copyright 2019 Yana Djin
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