The North Arm in Spring 2005

In these charcoal tinted blues,
Even the north arm of the Fraser became true,
It will move me,
And sometimes loose thee,
We may not have seen those hues,
The skies lent a hand in the splashes about this land for you,
Ebb and flow of those greys outweighed that day,
Even this small thumbnail would stay,
A secret in the small hand of a child,
Making such big language for awhile,
To thank,
This rivers bank,
Perhaps for spring this message has been,
The wild lilies gathered about me waiting to be seen.