April on Record

April has brought me home this summer evening.

There is a huge field of sunflowers

Just beyond my garden;

And over it are parasails

Swooping down from above a yellow sea

I am sitting in the rain,

because the weatherman told me to

he told me it would only drizzle

nothing to worry about

he said.

I saw you talking to the whale last night.

You were both singing.

Should I peel my ears off of my skin?

So that I might not hear the whalesong

When you sing

The raindrops are now falling asleep,

They tilt towards the shore

And become a sea around me;

They sway in and out of the gaps between my toes;

It seems a storm is coming

The sunflowers, now,

Are turning their heads to one another

In search of light

They seem to have found it,

Though the sky only grows more blue

The men on the parasails are falling to sea

Everything is red.

I turn my face to the sand under me,

And my mouth is full of gravel

The sunflowers twist around each other;

My sea turns orange as the whales strain to sing with you

~jhinuk