MARCH

‘Tis a time of uncertainties,

a month poised expectantly

between winter and spring,

unsure of itself. Trying to decide,

shall I snow? shall I blow?

shall I bestow the kindness of

more sun and warmth or shall I

bluster and refuse to offer hope?

 

March is a time of life,

not youth and not old age,

dangling between past and future.

It is a time of uncertainty,

the spirit tightly clinging

to youth, the body fearing age.

I have anticipation of better

days to come and yet the

Marches of my past tell me

it may not be so.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s