Saturday, April 09, 2022

The Last Ides of March

SPRING QUEEN, fully hand painted original by artist © witsend
Ides of March
©ndpthepoetress Jean Michelle Culp
 
It was almost a month of Sundays

When on this particular day

March was trying to hold onto winter, while embracing spring

By mid-morning, the sun was already busy nurturing the grounded seeds and partially budded plants

Then the sky began to weep and Old Man Winter blew his last cold-cold breath

Scattering tiny white pellets, like confetti; onto the emerald grassy green grass

When what to my wondering eyes did I see

A round breasted robin alit in a dirt mulched barren flower bed

Her thinly twigged legs unshaken by the wild wicked winds

Not a feather ruffled or appeared out of place, nor a single shiver

As she be-bopped to the rhythm of the erratic weather

Be-bopping ever so gracefully, back and forth, forth and back

Partaking of the tiny hailed pellets, quenching her thirst

Suddenly; it dawned on me, this is the very essence of life

No matter what life throws at us, no matter the need to cry, scream...

We can remain sturdy amidst the storms of life

By simply nib, nibbling on the mere morsels from the silver lining

And just keep bob, bobbin' along.

ndpthepoetress Jean Michelle Culp, Founder and Admin of Humanities IDEAS

  ©#A8975Z Page 4

 

Facebook Humanities IDEAS Be A Part of Humanity, not apart.

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