Pieces of April

by Steve Argyle

Kites shiver in the
Chill wind aloft between the
Bright sun and new grass.

Alas! Spring tugs on
My old bones as hard as it
Did when they were young.

Brazen daffodils
Lift bright but foolhardy heads;
Scorn lingering frosts.

Warmth. Memories of
Young love quicken along with
Burgeoning nature.

Spring's fulminating.
Now that I am old, which way
Should my fancy turn?