How does this month even register on the calendar? Other than some odd Rite of Spring, its overtones of lush green and pastel blue disguise that somewhere nearby there's still a chill echoing off some dark reminder of the past. It laughs it off though. You start to relax, but you know the routine. It's not going to slow down enough for one to take in the full intoxication of this month.
It'll wind around your head, play in the meadows, it'll frolic in the tree branches, and slide across still waters. But it'll be gone by nightfall. It'll whisper vaguely and you won't know what it said.
If you strain to listen, you'll be met with its silence. Your heart can pick up the message though. Somewhere between the beat of spring, and the snappy farewell to the past, you may finally hear its words, and they'll disappoint you when all it was saying was some stupid anecdote of how it once made bunnies out of a month's supply of fluffy clouds.
An Observation by Iggy 2019
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