We like march, his shoes are purple,

We like March, his shoes are purple,
  He is new and high;
Makes he mud for dog and peddler,
  Makes he forest 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.

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. more…

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"We like march, his shoes are purple, by Emily Dickinson" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 22 Jan. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/12408>.

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