The March wind Blows through the Meadow Reaches for blossoms Still dreaming of being. The March hare Nibbling shoots Trying to break through Frozen ground. It’s not really Spring In March. It just thinks it is.
I am a retired old woman trying to learn new things. I've decided that since my children are grown I would start some new adventures in life. So I moved across the country to a big city.
I'm blogging in hopes that someone will read and enjoy my writings. Next I'll get out the old paintbrush!
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