When I started this blog last June, I had April 1st in mind. Why? Because I realized that on April 1st, I'd have a way to communicate one of my all time favorite poems to the world at large, something I feel compelled to do every April 1st. Usually, I type it out and slip it into the mailboxes of everybody I happen to be working with.

So here it is. And FYI: April is National Poetry Month.

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

Spring, by Edna St. Vincent Millay.

Pretty great, huh? Okay, I admit the 'brains of men' line is a little much, but notice this: how the sound of the words 'flight of uncarpeted stairs' has the rhythm of descending a wooden staircase. How cool is that?

Y'know, in light of April being National Poetry month, I think that Singletails is going to have a new poem up for all thirty days of April. Curated by none other than yours truly, it will sort of be a 'Singletails Plays the Hits."

Enjoy.

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