It blew all night and it blew all day;
I met a ditcher on my way,
“So it’s Spring.” “Yes!” “T’ain’t warm.” “No!”
I pushed on gaily through the blow,
The day was young, I had far to go;I passed a gardener with his hoe,
“Not warm.” “No!” “Still, it’s Spring.” “Yes!”
I think back now and gladly bless
The sun on the grass and the growing cress;I rack my brains and try to guess,
Was it Spring? Yes! But not warm. No!
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© April 1981