Honestly, I never liked March. I call it the Un-Season. The trees are bare. Branches are scattered about, thanks to windy, chilly days. It even can snow in March, albeit the next day it warms up fast. Then carpets soil from yucky, muddy boots and whatever else the cat brings in. The TV plays reruns.
But wait. I look around. How many shades of grey and brown are there actually? There is beauty in the muted colors – even in the mud. There is more daylight and the promise of Spring is in the breeze.
So let me write this poem…
