Gotcha! There’s no such thing as “Perfect,” except for you. You’re perfect.
1. "My Name Is Not The Cruelest Month" by April Ranger
If you’ve ever seen an opening in a forest where sunlight
pours & pours, you know my name.
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
—T. S. Eliot
poets.org/poem/waste-land
#NationalPoetryMonth
2. "April Moon" by Cathy Song
Pulling us closer into its orbit,
shining the light of its fullness into the room,
we turn to hold in our hands
each other’s face as if
for the first time,
and the last—
Pink Moon, Egg Moon, Moon of New Grass.