March

 

With rain a-drizzle down my neck

And puddlied mued to trap me;

With cloud-strewen sun a distal speck

And wind-borne sleet to tap me

I think of flowered distant lands,

But not with poignant yearning

For I see birds all wining north,

Delighted with returning.

A crocus shows her golden head

I hear a robin sin;

While pussy-willows softly tread

March introduces Spring.

Reflections, poems by Edna Hickman Day, Topeka, Palindrome Press, 1972, page 79

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