April is poetry month, so, with apologies to real poets, I offer the following on what this April has meant to me:
Springtime or A Little Misery
When little green worms drop from the sky
And bees buzz ‘round making honey,
I watch from my window as birds sing and fly
And squirrels swing around like monkeys.
But I hide inside, with tissues galore;
Alas!
One day I will go out the door!
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