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Anacortes Springtime!

Drip, drip—rain and drizzle

 Upon my roof they dance, they sizzle.

 Spring comes in folded shades of gray

 Bringing chill winds that seem to say,

 “Through branches of barren trees we’ll play.”


Yet in the shadow of my shed

 Peeks a primrose bright and red,

 Soon, too, yellow daffs will follow

 Pushing through the muddy fallow


With spade and seedling tray held fast

 My sowing season arrives at last.

 Another icy gust!  I’m prone to say,

 “Perhaps I’ll wait another day!”