THE CALENDAR SAYS SPRING IS COMING! (It's Here Somewhere, Under All That Snow!)

March! March! March! They are coming

In troops to the tune of the wind.

Redheaded woodpeckers drumming,

Gold – crested thrushes behind;

Sparrows in brown jackets,

hopping Past every gateway and door;

Finches, with crimson caps, stopping

Just where they stopped before.

March! March! March! They are slipping

Into their places at last. . .

Literature white lily buds, dripping

Under the showers that fall fast;

Buttercups, violets, roses;

Snowdrop and bluebell and pink,

Throng upon throng of sweet posies

Bending the dewdrops to drink.

March! March! March! They will hurry

Forth at the wild bugle sound,

Blossoms and birds in a flurry,

Fluttering all over the ground.

Shake out your flags, birch and willow!

Shake out your red tassels, larch!

Grass blades, up from your earth – pillow.

Hear who is calling you. . . March.

–Lucy Larcom, March

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