Epilogues: April 2022
April, April, you merry little month. You bring us wicker baskets of blossoms, and wry wailing winds to whirl them all away.
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April, April, you merry little month. You bring us wicker baskets of blossoms, and wry wailing winds to whirl them all away.
The world is weeping. Our brothers and sisters are shuddering in subways, crawling across borders, bearing their children and their grandparents and their ragged animals on their backs. Are we supposed to bask in jolly cat happenings at such a time as this?
Did you eat local at every farm market? Did you “fweeeee!” around every Ferris wheel? Did you summer your summer to the summaximum?
There are songs about winter, spring and fall. But there are songs about summer. And that’s no coincidence.