March

I always loved March as a kid because that meant baseball season, St. Patrick's Day, and an end to the dark doldrums of winter.  

March in Chicago is strange.  You might get that teaser two-day stretch when you think it's spring, and then a couple inches of snow falls.  Living in-between.  Glimpses of heaven, hell, and purgatory all in one month.

Again, the take-away, for me anyway, is to enjoy what you've got (hence the "Casey at the Bat" reference). 

"March"

Instrumentation: guitar, piano

Marching through the sludge

I've got a grudge against March

The gray hangs on too long

Too long, it's all wrong

St. Patrick's Day and the river is green

The wind off the lake cuts right through your hopes for spring

The rain keeps pouring down 

On the little league field

The puddles around the plate

Give you no home to steal

It always seems that we're living in between

One foot in the mud and the other in grass so green

The breeze of spring gives way 

To summer's heat like it did last year

Autumn slowly dies

And winter hopes for spring to appear

Casey should have swung instead of saying twice, "Not yet"

It always seems that we've got what we're waiting to get