The Promise of April Rain
In
the warmest March on record
There’s
no way of coping
With
doping up our way of working
Five
masquerades as eight
In
the name of smarter not harder
We
celebrate the inchoate appeal
Neglect
and expectations surreal
Dorothy
clicking her red heels
Wishing
on a fibrillating heart
Catch
a cyclone and ride it home
With
a trendy can do attitude
Constructed
of wisps of air
Shred
in the flow and ebb
Hoping
for ecstasy
In
a land of misery
The
accountants miserly
Meting
out decisions
Without
rhyme, without reason
The
sand blasted fate of the few
Left
to keep up the pace
To
face the needy
And
hand outstretched greedy
With
a string sack of promises
Slipping
out of the grasp
Cascading
down the weary drain
Our
rheumy eyes staring
At
the promise of April rain
2012
April
David
P. Eckert