I am March
I am the season of a mostly good communal fun we have as a nation – March Madness – when the nation’s notion of perfect youth and athleticism goes on full display – along with their families, universities, towns and regions agree to have some good clean for real fun in the snow until the spring comes, which it does always do when the final net is cut and the final shot edited and we all sing as one “I am the Greatest” or we are or the shining moment is or whichever words soar with life at its most possible physical pinnacle.
It is raw. It is real. It is wonderful true.
I am the season roaring in on a last gasp of nasty blowing blunderbussing, get the candles, we got candles? natures furious kind of way…spitting icy discomfort on the tail of another long lonely winter.
And I am the crocus of April
