Poems (Jackson)/March (Beneath the sheltering walls the thin snow clings)

by Helen Hunt Jackson

For works with similar titles, see March.

MARCH.

ENEATH the sheltering walls the thin snow clings,—Dead winter's skeleton, left bleaching, white,Disjointed crumbling,on unfriendly fields.The inky pools surrender tardilyAt noon, to patient herds, a frosty drinkFrom jagged rims of ice; a subtle redOf life is kindling every twig and stalk Of lowly meadow growths; the willows wrapTheir stems in furry white; the pines grow grayA little in the biting wind; mid-dayBrings tiny burrowed creatures, peeping outAlert for sun.Alert for sun.Ah March! we know thou artKind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats,And, out of sight, art nursing April's violets!