March roared in, a lion
breathing snow, ice, wind,
and bitter cold as it drug
winter along behind, like the hock
of a dead animal.
It teased with bright sun,
and pleasant interludes
then sprung forth again
with more cold,
snow, and slop.
But on the last day, the lion
now drowsy, rested its head
on giant paws
and March ushered in the lamb, gentle
companion, a sure sign of spring.