Hillside Stream In Early March

Replenished with rain, it rushes on, Its brown water pours and spills Like vinegar from the pickle bottle, Tumbling over, bubbling through The jagged jumble of rocks, Those early plants pushed aside to let it pass, Its running melody ringing clear, Competing with the robin’s call, The stream pushes on, its cheerful song Belies the chill beneath, As it strives to outrun Winter, While the fragile sun sighs ‘Too soon, too soon’.