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On March 15, in Cleveland,

we celebrate 35 degreesĀ and dry sidewalks

by playing outside all morning, and again in the afternoon.

We bike the block in mittens and fleece,

and with numb fingers push dried peas

into peat pots filled and dampened on the stoop.

The former snow bank, now melted, exposes

pink-dressed Barbie

headless

arms wide as she dives

into what will soon be green

(but isn’t yet)

And we know just how she feels.