I think it’s Spring
Or so I’m told
But fool me with
This dratted cold

The howling winds
The tempest rains
The frigid air
The flooding plains

I think it’s Spring
The buds are out
My socks are soaked
I have my doubts

One day frigid
The next day fair
One day pleasant
The next, beware

I guess it’s Spring
I hope at times
The clouds let up
And the sun shines.