From the archives of Dorothy Corson
A moaning, groaning wintry wind
Comes whipping through the air.
The cold March winds are here again,
So everyone beware.
They playfully tweak a small boy’s cap,
A gust for a line of clothes,
A helpful push for a big red kite,
As into the sky it goes.
They push the clouds with gusty moves
O’er country and o’er town,
Stinging faces and quickening paces,
Forcing all heads down.
Yes, March winds roar,
But spirits soar,
For spring is coming soon.
Author’s note: This poem originally appeared in the March, 1955, edition of the Medford (MA) High School “Little Giant.” Its innocence and simplicity embarrass me when I read the sophisticated work of today’s high school students.
(c) Dorothy C. Judd
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