An Amaltas Song for Anannya

April showers us with
Many things but mostly
Songs sung to each other’s
Muses. You could say, April has
Its uses, but mainly, the May
Flowers it brings are the gold
For which we sing.

Arrows To the Heart

I’m three poems behind.
It has become so easy, fun
To see everything in April
As a multitude that holds that one
Poem, a verse, a gem, a find.
Then a poem found me, as
These things will, those words
Insisting on being heard, fierce
Weapons of silence, and now
I can only hear how they pierce
Me to the marrow. In
The multitudes of April, I only see
An arrow.