oh gorgeous March day!
the roads, deep in mud and deeper potholes,
endangering small cars and good shoes,
and all lined with mounds of dirty snow,
we stand in boots in mud,
admiring the mangy white hills, brown patched, trees bare and bleak
no leaf nor blossom to be found,
and only still the winter birds call and chirp.
the sun pours down on us like maple syrup
changing all to glowing gold,
and even passing strangers stop to say
"what a gorgeous day today!"