by sare teasdale
April is a rainbow month,
Of sudden springtime showers.
Bright with golden daffodils and lots of pretty flowers.
The roofs are shining from the rain,
The sparrows twitter as they fly,
And with a windy April grace
The little clouds go by.
Yet the backyards are bare and brownWith only one unchanging tree--
I could not be so sure of Spring
Save that it sings in me.
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