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March …. Alive

March is the cruelest month,

It teeters between ice and fall in cloth.

A wintry storm blows snow all day long,

The next, the sun peaks its head warm with a song.

The chirps, tweets, and warbles of the floks

Stuns with its humming personality that blocks

The rising warmth from becoming too hot.

The northern cardinal brightens our shores

All year long, while Blue Jay may scores

His flight onto our lands for a while and snores.

Enjoy the beauty of the cruelest month,

It’s variety, vascillatory nature, and the birth

Of life that it entails is vital to be conserved.

By Malakkc

I'm a Canadian whose life has been interesting as I've lived in Developing countries and here. The contrast of law, order, and amenities available to us Canadians (which we take for granted, sometimes) to war torn civil wars is enormous. It leaves an influence upon the soul that cries out for justice. My poetry and writing reflect that and more.

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