we are lulled by
candlestrewn news-
casts into some sense
of wax-puddled forever,
by the delibility
of asphalt footprints
into the tend-
encies to forget.
dripping elegies
for the fallen, we
count cherry-
blossomed blessings
petal by petal like
a lonely child’s game:
he loves me, he
loves me not. we stain
our subconscious
in pink nostalgia,
as if we, too, knew
the sting of April,
as if we could some-
how make it better, as if
by our crying, the world
would be a better place
come May, the cherry
trees then in full bloom.
the tenth muse 
I liked this, and tried not to read too much Boston into it. The world does become a better place – one place at a time, and when that one place improves, another dips, so it’s constant work. Yes, I stain my subconscious in pink nostalgia, but that’s not a bad thing. I have a belief that without conscientious, volitional action, the work defaults to depressed, miserable, angry. It is my duty to stay positive, hopeful, and I’m not naive. However, I refuse to believe that a negative, pessimistic perspective is the only valid perspective. Our crying will not make the world a better place – it’s what we do about our tears that will make the difference. I really liked the language and imagery here, Dr. Poetessa. Take a big deep breath of air for me.
what we do with our tears… yes, exactly, friend Mosk. you are absolutely right.
the best I’ve read tonight. I’m not thinking of Boston particularly…or the 96 liverpudlians remembered this week or Syria or the 30 killed today in the wedding in Afghanistan….just the sadness of man’s inhumanity to man and the absolute need for the cherry blossom and the violets and cowslips blooming hidden in the grasses of the wayside …even if noone looks for them …that sweet beauty of that moment is there.
wow, thanks, geraldine. and you’re right– we need to look for that beauty.
I just think this is really good.
*smiles.* thanks, wanderer
We wish the world was a better place especially today when so many are hurting and we ache with them. Great write, Joanna.
thank you, ayala.
I’m looking forward to May. My favorite of the night. So well written.
thanks, Beth! i’m kinda looking forward to May, myself, though it brings its own bitterness.
the sting, indeed. thank you, some comfort in this
gracias, Ray. glad it held a little, at least.