April Verse

by Bill Parnell

The last cool breaths are taken,
And shivers near their end,
With first thunders of the year,
Come verses with the wind.

Of Music from winter’s tomb,
Night ends its quiet affairs,
Frogs and crickets take their place,
To settle in symphony chairs.

Of Plays for virgin leaves,
Lines in youthful blinding green,
Directing the buds and petals,
On a pollen sodden scene.

Of Sonnets of seeds underfoot,
To soften each step we bound,
Over life yet to begin,
Toward life yet to be found.


Bill Parnell is a native of Jackson, Tennessee. After graduating from the University of Tennessee at Martin, he moved back to Jackson where he is now a practicing CPA. Besides writing, he enjoys hiking, kayaking, trail running, hunting and fishing, while taking his seven-year-old son along as much as possible. In 2018, he published a book about an outdoor adventure on Tennessee’s Cumberland Plateau, Seem to Have Been There Before. Read his blog here and follow him on Twitter @billparnell25.

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