And now, for our (optional) prompt. In his poem “The Wasteland,” T.S. Eliot famously declared that “April is the cruelest month.” But is it?…

April is the cruelest month
I’ve been dreading the 30 days of it
that are marked
upon the calendar.
Easter Sunday 2015,
celebrated as the day
Jesus rose from the grave,
was when I shrivelled
into half the embodiment
I’d occupied
for almost 50 years.
My body did not become smaller
but my wholeness shrank.
The saddest part about this year’s April
is that I’ve forgotten much about our life together.
But I do recall the sweet essence of our love.