The+Poet+took+the+Podium

 Pushing aside what comes in between (the downy woodpecker sidled-up the branch and stuck close) a winter-like wind knocked without text. The poet took the podium and in a poet’s way made me sad. He said he’d read poems with //April// in them to remind us it was spring. The poet’s images opened and echoed so that colorful spots were colorful spots morphing into trout (the poet caught these for dinner when not writing, he informed us), but the man seemed dispirited as if all he had was text (the fish being eaten) and spring was but something to reference.

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