Oh March, your weather is mostly a terrible tease
Of lions and lambs blowing in and out with the breeze.
Soaked dogs and cats fall freely from clouds in the sky
To freshen the earth all withered and dry.
Some days you don’t know whether to snow or to shine
Creating confusion in the feelings of spring time.
It’s a tug-o-war game between winter and summer
Of ski poles and golf clubs, of parka or sweater.
But the vernal equinox declares once again
That daytime and night-time are nearly the same.
A season is leaving, another arriving
In your see-sawing outlook it’s about patient surviving.
So March, make up your mind once and for all
Before your muddled days pass, and April will call.