2 Poems by Milo Gallagher

Becoming April Third

I keep thinking I must be patient this spring,
patient with the changing days that smell like bonfire,

a wild Halloween wind. April is all contradiction,
moss and sap and hormones,

dogwood blossoms, the clamor of wasps.
I can learn from this month. April takes its time

letting us know how it’s going to be.
April bursts at the seams, puts on some gaudy colors:

ruby giants, flame azalea. A drama queen
whirling into sudden storms. Continue reading “2 Poems by Milo Gallagher”