April is cruel for chimneys and historians,
aficionados of the color brown
but those who like bird scales
and pink upon their trees
are usually pleased - it's a matter of taste,
what people see in the way things appear,
the subtleties culled by the eye.
It's brave to see winter the purest of jewels
and kind to believe in the new splash of moss,
how worms and mosquitoes are vital to life
and flowers mementos of death.
For each to his own the symbolism springs,
the flow of all thought through position,
to make of a canvas as bold and as blank
as the sun on the frill ends of clouds.
