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April 1.

April Fools. Easter. Third day of Passover.  First day of National Poetry Writing Month.  A Sunday.

A day like every other and none other.

A day to celebrate the firm entrenchment of spring – witness the acid green of the treetips and the puddles of daffodils echoing the sun. The chill of the air – 48 degrees and damp – belies the wonders pushing above ground.

So I’m a fool for April with its enticing colors and well perfumed air. Even the ground wells up with scent as plants and flowers push forth. It’s no joke that spring is firmly on its way here. My fruit trees and shrubs are budding out, dandelions are taking over the grass and a few clematis vines are peaking their own blooms.

And I’m a fool for words although right now there’s not a poem in sight and I may have to resort, in a good way, to the prompts here.

And of course, this being the first of the month, I’m a fool for Judith and her fabulous outfits at and the monthly Hat Attack. While I’m loathe to rerun a hat, this was the only one that went with my outfit.

The hat I actually bought years ago.  The coat may have come from my sisters but its origins are a mystery.

The dress is a true 60’s vintage piece once belonging to my friend Kristy’s mother. It was her graduation from nursing school dress.

I’m hoping for a fruitful month and look forward to posts from around the world in my own (online) poetry group and in posts on Visible Monday.

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