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Show March Wind With blustering, walling cadenzas Round high summits of granite, he whines, Filling coulees with Jewels which King Winter Strewed profusely amid, aspens and pines. He has mottled the fields and the mountains With patches of white, mauve, and brown ; In each gulley, he - bade- a mad freshet Take a load and go tumbling down. He will hurry the clouds through the heavens, Push them hard against mountains, moun-tains, then Jeer, Till exhausted they'll drop down their burdens And mysteriously disappear. He will bluster about ias he pleases Never leaving a hint where he'll go; But he's storing up water for summer With what's left of the past winter's snow. Allen Flfleld Bingham Canyon, Utah ... . |