March is the season for clover. It’s popping up on lawns, in fields, everywhere. I love remembering my childhood in clover, sitting with friends and weaving long chains of clover flowers into crowns, necklaces, veils, anything a princess may need. Clover enhanced my play as a child growing up in Mississippi. I can still smell the freshly mown clover.
Kim Douillard wrote on her blog recently that a colleague of hers described haiku as “in one breath.” I love that thought and encourage you to try a breath of a haiku about clover, spring, childhood, whatever comes to mind. Leave a small poem in the comments and write encouraging responses to other writers.
Breath of fresh clover
Margaret Simon, draft
becomes a princess crown in
a field of wonder
Reflections on the Teche 