Beware the Ides, they whisper in the foam,
a warning tucked in gull-cries overhead,
the sea remembers every crown and throne,
and every dream that rose, then turned to red.
March walks the boardwalk wearing two-faced skies,
one moment sun, the next a knife of rain,
and even daffodils in brave surprise
must push through frost to learn their golden name.
So watch the air, it crackles like a dare,
the season shifts, but doesn’t tell you why,
and tides roll in as if they do not care
what falls apart beneath a changing sky.
Still… walk on. Spring is ruthless, but it’s true:
it breaks the old, so life can start anew. 🌊🗡️🌷