You know what they say about April

The cruelest month and all. I don't know if that's why April was chosen to be National Poetry Month, but it is. And in honor of one of my poetry teachers, Roger Mitchell (who, I just discovered, is blogging), I offer this poem (below the fold):

Things Light Finds to Be
Roger Mitchell
From Savage Baggage

I can't explain it, D., only let
the rug unravel. We walk across the room.
Walk across the room again. See,
the light has changed, the things light finds to be.
I bet you'll never come to visit us,
she said. I felt accused, but she was right.

Now everything is here. The leaves drift down
in a steady wash of air. The world, let go,
hovers on its stalk.
And the dropping, which seems sudden,
isn't, and which seems like a downward motion,
props these groping twigs against the sky.