End of April

A grey sky roofs the morning
and just when I have decided
it is the only color the
day will wear, a tulip
bursts in my face, a boy
across the street hoists a
purple kite, a neighbor lady
arranges a clothesline with
plaid shirts and checked aprons,
an angleworm turns red on the
sidewalk, I flinch from the glance
of polished chrome.
If you were here, we would not
gawk at these flash cards but
follow the example of May baskets
and decorate our door with
surprise tendrils of love.