historically speaking

historically speaking,
april’s extending light —
full of itself in bloated newness.
the rain, the rain,
then the sun, the sun
all this back and forth
the newborn kittens, the blind
the anamnesis – when i had wanted to
things i worked so hard to forget.

but historically speaking,
april crawls along.
poems dried up on the sidewalk
left in a beach town where the wind
wouldn’t let up.
dropped like a quarter off
a bridge, no sound made
on contact.

i remember the noise of moving forward,
and april is swept.