When badgers’ sleep becomes uncertain,
One eye blinking, one eye still,
Worms must look to their emergings,
Things are changing, as they will.

Too soon yet to talk of Springtime,
Snow may yet put life on hold.
Still to come, the lambing blizzard,
Driving snow and biting cold.

All the same, it gets you thinking,
Winter may have done its worst.
Tell ourselves it’s almost Summer,
Every single March The First.

by Allan Bantick 1st March 2023