The winds of March are hectic winds
That threaten as they blow;
They scurry into corners where
Angels fear to go.
They cut and sting and roar and howl
And play chess with the clouds;
They whip the clothes and bow the heads
Of home-bound leaning crowds.
But March winds have a better side
In spite of pranks! They shoo
King Winter to his frigid lair,
And send me spring–and you.
by Ray Romine Saturday, October 14, 1950
