"March"

March

Along the fence the crocus blossoms lift

        Their slender cups of blue, and pink, and snow;

        The brave white daisies, too, are all ablow;

Across the air the tufts of willow sift,

And settle into many a fluffy drift.

        Where Whatcom’s waters leap the rocks, and flow

        Beneath the bridge, wild currant blossoms glow

Like soft, pink globes of flame. In the brook’s rift

        The reeds bend down to let the waves slip through

        With low, sweet, faltering laughter. Blue, pale blue,

The curving sky—and deeper blue the sea;

        And crimson salmon-berry bells are here . . . . . 

        Hey, March! I like thy laughter shrill and free—

Thou bold, sweet fearless daughter of the year!

"March" printed in The Bellingham Reveille, clipping courtesy of the Ella Higginson Papers, Center for Pacific Northwest Studies, Heritage Resources, Western Washington University, Bellingham WA.