April Wind, by Nancy Schmalz

Wild rummager, scattering leaves,
whisking fancy-free through backyards,
churning birdsong into snippets
tossing the bits like confetti  to the sky
teasing the wind chime to a frenzy,
surging like surf through the trees
sweeping with a grin
through my billowing curtain —
by the time your mischief is caught
you’ll be whistling at another window.

Nancy Schmalz, Mineral Point