Every year when April approaches, I find myself getting all skittery about it because since I found out about it, I have never been able to write a poem for every single day of the month. But I keep trying. The poet in me demands it. So here I am again, April 1st starting the game all over again.

This is my first piece of the month:

An Architect’s Tale

A dream
held since childhood
to see a building form
from flat paper
to a structure
that houses workers
and the engine
that pushes them.

I set to out wonder the Sphinx.
Cloaked in meekness
low-heeled shoes
and glasses
(clara, not clark, kent)
I battered battalion-like rungs
to get a building
that was mine
all mine.

But the wind and its cohorts
levelled the dream, the building
in a matter of minutes
and sent me, (clara, not clark kent)
scurrying to an ancient cave
where the only thing to build
was a fire.

I built that fire
until it consumed everything
including me.