Today’s April 1st.
I’ll give you my sadness,
my pondering unquelled and
the delivery of a fruit basket–
out-of-season.

I promised sex,
choice and nature.
A baby.
Love, timeless themes.

I’ll give you green boxes,
fill the bottom with
despair, quandary and limitless devotion.
Add a dog in heat.

I promised magic,
daily musings and leaves.
New life.
Love, philosophy.

I’ll give you empty hallways
due to bombings and dark hearts. No forgiveness.
Survival in the streets from
quiet men that never agree.

I promised all night earth quakes,
coin flipping and river banks.
Fertility.
Love, Winter.

I’ll give you disease.
Fill you with parting words
and cold water.
Through tears and cells,
I promised poetry.