From April’s Fool


this day did not pass unnoticed,   just as
that day so many years ago did not
pass unremarked.        all out of apologies,
I look back on the magic and madness
and disremember the deep black blues,
red ink and looming shadows of doom   —
though those were inventions, too, of tragic
self prophecy   —   so this day I am moved
to make no more amends,   nor beg mercy
nor forgiveness;    let my poem now be
thanksgiving for the love,   passion,   patience
and perseverance you blessed me with those
many years,   and the family you were,
the understanding and fond affections   .  .  .

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