ODE TO NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

NEAR the end of April,
On the verge of May --
And O my heart, the woods were dusk
At the close of day.
Half a word was spoken
Out of half a dream,
And God looked in my soul and saw
A dawn rise and gleam.
Near the end of April
Twenty Mays have met,
And half a word and half a dream
Remember and forget.


William Stanley Braithwaite