It hit me today,babe, squarely between the eyes as I was writing on my whiteboard at school.
I had to change the date in the upper left hand corner.
I stretched to erase "March," with its curly-cue black lettering...and as I picked up the green and blue markers-you know, April showers and all-I stopped.
I had to write A-p-r-i-l.
I don't want April; give it to someone else.
T.S. Eliot once wrote:
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.