March. Will it come in like a lion or like a lamb? And will it go out like a lamb or like a lion? March. I always think of it as the start of Spring. When dewdrops sprinkle the grass and the bright sun makes them sparkle, when they act as little magnifying glasses to a world we only see if we stop to look closely. Dew, like cool water to a weary soul. It seems so perfect for Spring.
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