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Here’s a gently springy puzzle for early April, as well as a poem that I wrote after walking around the neighborhood.
Spring in My Feet
Einstein-haired forsythias wave
To daffodils who bow and brave
The bagpipe drone and wheeze of blowers
Lofting leaves among the flowers
Callow cherries blush with pride,
Their elders slumber on and bide
The time til arthritic limbs
Break out in pinkly glorious hymns
Zoysia steals more Zs before
It grudgingly comes green once more,
For now the onion grass stands guard
While squirrels scrabble ‘cross the yard
Weekday children walk to school
In shorts though temps be cold not cool,
Weekend farmers make their beds
With shredded hardwood, blacks and reds.
I’m glad my verse you did indulge;
My friends I thank you very mulch.