Poetry

APRILS

That for some years
in April
I linger on trees
with new leaves
in clear April skies ,
I had put down
to my advancing years ;
finally taking that leave
from life
ageing people are said to do .
Then why do I see
shy green leaves in
yellow sunlight ,
like light turned
to leaf , clear
in clear blue sky ,
and I stare rapt
with recognition ,
stoned , acheing ,
remembering , as if returned
from another life ?
What piled up codes
are unraveling together ;
what is the meaning of this
sly mixing of future
with past ?