Wild Card Wednesday: This is Spring

If there comes a little thaw,
Still the air is chill and raw,
Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below,
Dribbles down a marshy flood;
Ankle-deep you stick in mud
In the meadows while you sing,
“This is Spring.”

  • C. P. Cranch, A Spring Growl.

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  1. Great little poem.  I kept thinking to myself at the end that the “This is Spring” refrain should have been repeated, perhaps just to balance the poetic meter.  But then I thought, maybe Cranch did that on purpose as another way of saying that all is not what it should be, that spring is not living up to its romantic imagery.

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