March Goosebumps
See how the wind's of March bluster, torment;
they break boughs and chase the fallen leaves.
Oh hear, the frozen garden bed's lament,
as twigs across the way skate 'cross the pond.
And, do you feel the goosebumps through your sleeves
and the chill of daffodil as it responds?
The buds which bend, wind burnt, forlorn, attend
The wild wolf wind nips at spring's fragile tips
of infant green and willows which transcend
as they with golden blossoms grow rows high.
See the forsythia limbs, they bend and whip
but soon they'll dance beneath a clear blue sky
See how the wind's of March bluster, torment,
the buds which bend, wind burnt, forlorn attend.
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