April Fools Poem by David Kowalczyk
April Fools
Spring. A great yellow stain.
Forsythias burst and daffodils explode.
Swallows hurry back from Mexico
and are bitten by
the laughing snows of April.
Spring, the smile
of a ninety-year old man
who can't hear a thing you say
yet keeps talking to you nonetheless.
Spring and dreams
have that in common.
I thought the purpose and the meaning were clear enough given the title to make this a poem to recommend. The creativity does not add to the clarity but it demonstrates a focus on the meaning that was important. GW62
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/24/2026 3:37:17 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
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