The winds of March
they came in May
with rain and hail and cold
the wind was rushing,
numbing, chilling
forceful, brash and bold.
The snow stayed on the peaks
maybe skiing until June
I bundled up my body
whistling a listless tune.
I braved the wind and rain
dodging hail, ignoring cold
gathered all the sunshine
my aching limbs could hold.
The winds of March
they came in May
they may be here till June
meanwhile, I'll keep writing
these silly little runes.