April Showers

the march of time walks away
as rain knocks my window
pallid light creeps through the clouds
that bloated and corpse-like, sit

the caw of the crow
the sweet laughing of the bird in black
the melody of the lark
the scream of the strings

the march of time walks on
i feel as if i am forgetting
what blue skies look like
for the slate of april showers