It’s not easy being March, straddled
between winter and spring, subject
to moods that fluctuate from dark
to bright, from warm to freezing in less
than a day and not one mood enduring.
Nevertheless, you get to usher in spring
and to return the singing of birds to the land.
So when it rains today, I’ll choose to see
the drops as tears of joy. It is, after all,
the season of birth, when something
that never was before arrives,
and changes everything.