We like March.
His Shoes are Purple —
He is new and high —
Makes he Mud for Dog and Peddler.
Makes he Forests dry.
Knows the Adder Tongue his coming
And presents her Spot —
Stands the Sun so close and mighty
That our Minds are hot.

News is he of all the others —
Bold it were to die
With the Blue Birds exercising
On his British Sky.

We like March — his shoes are Purple.
He is new and high —
Makes he Mud for Dog and Peddler —
Makes he Forests Dry —
Knows the Adder’s Tongue his coming
And begets her spot —
Stands the Sun so close and mighty —
That our Minds are hot.
News is he of all the others —
Bold it were to die
With the Blue Birds buccaneering
On his British sky —

Analysis, meaning and summary of Emily Dickinson's poem We like March.

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