MARCH WINDS

Harsh March winds, proverbial March winds, seed, rush, blow, race, howl, surge, batter, tree tops, rooftops, houses,and land, as if its gusts would die, were they not able to scatter and peel, if they could not blast away, blow away, breezily all idle life, bygone and past, as they billow away, winnow away forward unto the new, fecund sheltering resurgent Spring. In more temperate winds of March , I used to fly my kites way up in the sky, imagining I was Ben Franklin or Wilbur and Orville Wright or Icarus, or anything but an earthbound boy wielding his bright kite on a string.