The Month of Mars — A Poem

An artfully altered photo looking up the trunk of an old, bare-leafed oak tree, its torso stroked with shadow.
“Oak, March” — C.Birde, 3/22

O, March —

mercurial & a-brim with bluster


emotions’ scope, depth, & wide,

sweeping swings



Passionate & weeping aloud

the world’s griefs,

shouting its humble victories

Accept me –

nearly as buoyant,

at turns razor-edged &

tearful in my seclusion;

your mortal expression,

your devotee.

I am yours.

— C.Birde, 3/22

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