There are Worse Months than April
I nearly missed National Poetry Month.
I’ve heard that April was chosen to celebrate poetry because of T.S. Eliot’s beginning for The Wasteland:
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
But even if there were no such Eliot poem I think April would seem the logical choice of a month to celebrate poetry, at least here in Western Washington. Except for those freak Aprils when the weather is nothing but freezing sleet from beginning to end, April is usually that time of year when it feels as if there may be such a thing as paradise.
Every April when poetry month comes around Eliot’s lines come to mind, and that always makes me think of the Michael Franks song Coming to Life.
(There’s no actual video here – it’s just for listening)