Waters Of March

A stick, a stone,
It's the end of the road,
It's the rest of a stump,
It's a little alone

It's a sliver of glass,
It is life, it's the sun,
It is night, it is death,
It's a gun

The foot, the ground,
The flesh and the bone,
The beat of the road,
A slingshot's stone

A fish, a flash,
A silvery glow,
A fight, a bet,
The range of a bow

The wood of the wind,
The steps in the hall
A scratch, a lump,
It is nothing at all

A spear, a spike,
A point, a nail,
A drip, a drop,
It's the end of the tale

A truckload of bricks
In the soft morning light,
A shot of a gun
In the dead of the night

A mile, a must,
A thrust, a bump,
It's a girl, it's a rhyme,
It's a cold, it's the mumps

The plan of the house,
The body in bed,
It's the car that got stuck,
It's the mud, it's the mud

And the riverbank talks
of the waters of March,
It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart

Afloat, adrift,
A flight, a wing,
A hawk, a quail,
The promise of spring

The bed of the well,
The end of the line,
The dismay in your face,
It's a loss, it's a find

A snake, a stick,
It is John, it is Joe,
It's a thorn in your hand
and a cut in your toe

Well the riverbank talks
of the waters of March,
It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart

A point, a grain,
A bee, a bite,
A blink, a buzzard,
A sudden stroke of night

A pin, a needle,
A sting, a pain,
A snail, a riddle,
A wasp, a stain

A stick, a stone,
The end of the load,
The rest of a stump,
A lonesome road

And the riverbank talks
of the waters of March,
It's the end of despair
It's the joy in your heart.

It's the joy in your heart.

It's the joy in your heart.

The foot, the ground,
A stick, a stone,
It's a hunch, it's a hope