In March

In March I experience all sorts of longing

I long for warmer weather to heed nature’s cry for adventure

I long for new faces and places

I long for shadowed parts of myself to come to light

In March I anticipate the splendor of life to wrap itself around me

But like a virgin lover, it hesitates. It keeps me waiting

In March I want to behave with accuracy

But I always come off foolishly

March and I have always been at odds

It never meets me full on. It barely comes half way

And so I become exhausted, chasing it

Chasing whatever happiness its made itself out to be

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