The Dawn of April Houseflies

I went to the moon to ask a question
I posed as an agent in red
I prospered for all winter meetings
Always resting my legs in bed
I went to the doorway to avoid the noise
Of the indifference, the commotion, and the silent retreat
Then when I heard you, you were no longer present
You had given in to a glorious defeating April dusk
Where moons glow and showers follow soft agent peasants
Like green shrubs that do not hide their insides
With grateful globes of omnipresent showers
Taken too often, too few disposed, along the shoreline of April slow
Slow machinations