Drawing by Rob Lindquist ■ Rob Lindquist / Contributed March, how I loved you; How fragrant the trees That perfumed our valley On spring days like these. I was reading to children One morning at school Some lines from the pens Of poets I knew. From old Edgar Guest And his “Rose at the Door.” Sweet Fields and Longfellow, Riley and more. When all of a sudden The mem’ry returned Of sounds from the orchards That I once had learned. I started to buzz Producing the noise Of a real honey bee For the girls and the boys Who then cried, “It’s a Bee…! It’s a bee, that for sure!” And
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