March's dreariness looms
when no pigeon coons,
it grieves at spring's doorsteps
not willing to pass the baton,
resisting to give in until its frown
vanishes into the brightness of sun rays!
March is wilder than storms,
it can retain its brutality,
even being mean to Nature
which knows how badly it behaves,
letting lose its frightening madness
that viciously destroys wilderness;
how vile is it to...
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