The First Of March Poem by Paul Reed

O, wind that blows
On the first day of March
That causes the branch to shiver
And the bough to arch;

That sweeps the pavements
Cleaner than humand hand
That freshens the chilly hilltop
And scours the pastureland;

That finds gaps around the edge
Of casements in their groan
Whose glass is the first to see
The moving air and moan;

O, wind that blows
In March on this first day
That wafts our sorrows high above
And blows our cares away