Explore "March" by Virna Sheard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Windy March weather, with a lone crow flying, / A little ebony airship careening down the blue, / And high, high above him a wild goose crying, / The leading cry, the clarion cry, that guides his grey lines through!
Windy March weather, with the pine trees singing, / Silver-red the brambles show and silver-green the birch, / And silver-grey a squirrel on a top branch swinging, -- / A friendly elf who nods to me from his far perilous perch.
Windy March weather, with the tawny brook that hurries / Eager for the outward rush of rivers to the sea; / A tiny brook sun-dappled, that frets and sings and worries, / A rough adventurous little brook that calls and calls to me!
Windy March weather, and the old spring madness / Tempting us to take the trail that wanders free and far, -- / Whispering of magic roads that wind to lands of gladness, / Where vanished joys and lost delights and garnered treasures are!