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