April Fool

 I say ‘had we but world enough and time’

as though we would be suited naturally

but you and I do not perfectly rhyme;

we are two different forms of poetry.

My meaning’s something only you can see.

I’m written for an audience of one;

existing only as you’re reading me,

I go extinct the moment you are done.

I know your verses are for everyone

yet, when you breathe, I hear my name instead

just like the daisy who regards the sun

and wonders if one day they might be wed.

Now April’s done. I’m glad it wasn’t cruel.

You were its sunlight. I was its fool.