March came in like a proverbial lamb;
and she quickly began picking up steam.
The first few days were sunny, mild, and calm;
then snow brought by Winter's battering ram
escorted an annual Easter Squall
as cool weather squatted a few more days.
Another warm-up brought daffodils tall,
thunderstorms, tornadic torrential flays,
rooftops off homes, powerlines ripped from poles,
trees uprooted, homes and vehicles flipped,
damage for miles in corporate locales
where lives have been marred, heartstrings are now ripped.
From the anchoring strengths of hearth and home
where rebuilding takes time, tilling the loam
must be completed to stimulate phloem.
Lives must be rebuilt in this worldly realm
while another, still being ripped apart,
cannot ponder whence the 'morrow's dire helm
will position them. Those who leave home port,
praying for a reprieve, can have no thought
or hopes quite bold as news from home is told
and the days flow forth. Homeland hopes for bought
or borrowed time as loved ones lives unfold,
then refold when words not sharing their pain
rip hearts asunder -- tell home's not the same.
Faces turn ashen as their colors drain,
emotions rage for lost hopes they can't claim.
Now, as the month begins its final wrap,
it is preparing to give us a slap
when leaving us with a severe storm snap.
March 2022 — In Like a Lamb, Out Like a Lion
So, this says The Old Folks Saying Rings True.
It certainly does this year for me and for you!
January moves into February,
and winter has settled in.
Sunny skies are often cloudy;
snow is on its way again.
Wind is blowing, howling--
a reminder to stay in and warm.
Hot soup will tame stomach's growling
and the goosebumps on my arm.
Awakening to a new day dawning,
out the window is now a wonderland,
a roaring fire in the stove is warming,
novelty in the air is quite grand.
Being snowed in can be so charming
if we fill the time with games, reading--
cooking memories for future sharing.
With home in the Arctic Tundra
and rarely seen in Central Park,
midst the Polar Vortex split 'assundra
she traveled in its wild winter spark.
Paying a visit to New York City,
a crowd gathered -- birdwatchers galore
trekked the paths -- hoping for a "look-see,"
a prized view on the Atmospheric River.
Several feet of snow beneath its flow
leaving the normal arctic path begging
as the snowy owl steals the show
with the "Arctic River" now sunning
south of the tundra and the North Pole--
'twixt the Polar Vortex, no longer whole,
with wild winter patterns on the southern shoal.
According to Paul Sweet, an ornithologist at the American Museum of Natural History, the most recent record of a Snowy Owl seen in Central Park was December 1890. To find out more, follow him @pablo_dulce on twitter.
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