Zephyr — A Poem about March Winds (that came in April this year).

Ruckus winds rustle up dust and pollen

Much to my red-eyed stuffy nosed chagrin

Blowing snow mold from greening grasses

and picking up Spring’s pouring puddles

placing them in soft slow cumulus clouds

that patrol above like sentinels on watch

over birds scouting for nesting real estate

and us walking the recently unclothed yard

hunting sprigs and signs of future flowers

amidst the detritus of falls fallen waste

welcoming a storm’s whisper in the billowing

breeze, thunder being the trumpet blast

heralding the warming effects of Spring.

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