a letter to the month of April in Illinois

I am sorry for the mean things I said about you. I was frustrated with your changing temperament and weather. I see from today that you have called a truce. I wore flip flops today in celebration, April. I forgive your chilly approach to me of late. I forgive your tornadic winds sent in protest to the nasty names I called you. You may still be a bit of a tease, April but you're nothing like March. Today's wide blue sky comforted me. I thought of poetry and you, April in the same thought. See, I told you I was sorry. Now, since we've reached an agreement I hope that our truce will continue throughout your days. I have two new pair of flip flops and an assortment of t-shirts waiting in anticipation. Don't let us down.