April Fool’s Day, 1997 by Sandra Skouson
by Patricia | 4.01.11So soon after the green grass,
jonquils showing, the willow
shining again, the joke is
on me. I find a coat, boots,
muffler, drag the snow shovel
out of the shed. How funny!
Three fender-benders here in
town and broken trees. Up north,
four people died in a wreck.
Did you mean to blow the shell
off that white pickup, the
pie to be so salty no
one could eat it, my sister
to run from the room in tears?
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To read Sandra’s bio and more of her poetry on WIZ, go here, here, and here.
*contest entry*