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Fleeting April
By Gillian Grozier

Fleeting April, first and fragile
dance into adulthood
stepping over a threshold of yets
not knowing, but pretending to know
breasts like buds,
a swelling chest filled with ecstatic singing
and the dizzying beauty of it all.
Not knowing the onward rush of summer
will usurp all the Aprils of the world
slipping -- oh my god, through these fingers
without a pang.
The yet becomes a lifelong fancying to recapture
the carelessness of it all
and knowing
it will never again be new that way.
Never again. Now.


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Document last modified on: 12/10/2000

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