Old Man Winter doesn’t know when to leave;
His long nails are caught in Spring’s lacy sleeve.
Despite her March winds, his grip won’t let go,
His delaying tactics make her progress too slow.
The flowers are blooming, new green on the trees
But the temperatures still fall with each Wintry sneeze.
Temps rise each week to a new average high.
But at least once a week, we shiver and sigh
Let Go, Old Man Winter! Please just say Good Bye!