Writers Workshop


April is not still.

Underground, the roots are stretching — their arms pale and green.

Above ground, tulip’s sword-like blades cut through the soil,

allowing space for the tulip’s chalice to shine

its red, yellow, or pink petals.

Above, the trees are whispering in the breeze, and the grasses

bend and bow.

Robins bob on the lawn, looking for a treat.

When the rain comes, it patters and plays polkadots

on the sidewalk and the soil.

The air has washed itself of staleness and is now refreshed, and refreshing.

If we are lucky, a rainbow treats us to the surprise of its being in our sky.

Happy April...


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