March

Days grow longer and the sun is higher,
now that it is March.
Night’s still cold enough though for hoar frost
to sheath the grass, pine, and sage
in a sparkly luminance as the rising sun
beams across the landscape.
It is better to be out in the crisp early hours of the day
before the late winter sun turns the frozen trails to slippery shoe- sucking mud.
I wonder if the deer know.
Do they grow weary of the gnawing pang of winter?
Do they get impatient with the pace of the days?
It is March now. In like a lion, out like a lamb.
It’s a month long on promise,
promise of renewal and rejuvenation,
promise of sweet, sweet grass to chew on.

 

March 3, 2018

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