Member Poem

April is the cruelest month,
For a family friendly poem
 twenty lines or less
previously published or new
 
breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land,
 
as a  part of this wordy journey… 
hope to provide a place where
they can enjoy the gift of family
 
mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
 
when orphans hide from
bullets when jihadis take over
cities and tourists flee
 
Dull roots with spring rain
where the homeless die
in oxygen starved dark-
 
April is the cruelest month…

Italicised lines are from T.S.Eliot's The Wasteland written in the aftermath of the Great War in 1922, interspersed here to protest