The sun streams through the sky down to my face: bright, bold, warm.
The wind whips through the parking lot cutting through my winter attire: brutal, biting, cold.
Hello March! whirls in my mind. The calendar says you are here. So soon, won’t you bring out the green? And the crisp blue skies? And the singing birds? And make my spirit feel renewed and refreshed?
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Thanks for the comments, everyone. LisaC. — it was short out of necessity . . . I had just moments to get this slice out! LOL!
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Where are the birds and the flowers?
That’s what I wanna know.
😦
Kevin
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You are really good at getting to the point! When I write (and speak) I tend to ramble. You can very quickly say what you mean.
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My gosh that poem is good!
I have to get my hands on the rest of it.
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Ruth, I couldn’t agree more.
I love the Bobbi Katz poem that starts:
March is when
a cheerleader
no longer cartwheels
inside your chest
because the forecast is
SNOW……..
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I’m ready for spring too!!
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