On the Last Day of March

On the last day of March,

I venture out of my

climate-controlled cocoon

to find a sluggish lizard

gazing groggily at

a not-yet-in-bloom world.

A furiously scurrying caterpillar

pumps his 16 legs

on this virgin voyage,

while three angry geese

battle for airspace,

slashing the silent expanse.

And a northern flicker calls

chee-chee-chee-ch-CHEE-chee.

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About Judy Grigg Hansen
I write poetry and nonfiction, and I am passionate about the people, places, and wildflowers of Idaho and the Northwest.

4 Responses to On the Last Day of March

  1. Dick Grigg says:

    Not to mention the big blast of wind that came on the last day of March. Thanks, Dad

  2. a nice slice of little lives

  3. cornusella says:

    cute little critters!

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