X=April Angst

This angst of early summer
which veers from glistening the bay
into a meadow of white horses
running off the scale of play

to sudden pouring shame
that the skies let fall the necessary
washes and supplements to life
under a paranormal grey

the winds hurt they do
like over-zealous martinet shifts
assigned to closet you one more day
in your fleece of blue

I am sunshine's whining child
engaged with and engorged
on this glimpse of early summer
where are you