II. April Fools   That April is a shortened month was cruel. Started with a trickster's gamble, April Swelled its progress with sweet pleasure, Immeasurable divinity, ample in its joys To fill a life, were its thirty suns All the course of happiness life runs: A silver coin, each sun, a gay god's toys Strewn around my feet like scattered treasure. The days I measured by the fiery nights, When our love lit the dark around— Nights of furnace heat I can't forget, Nights of soft collision, wrecked without regret. Those nights of murmured sweetness, comfort's sound, Now echo heart's halls, cruel as elfish lights.