Stirrings of spring up North

The ripples quivered in joy,

as the wind  swam across the river

The black mass above cracked

letting the waning light through,

casting gleaming patches on the water below,

filtering through the leafless branches ashore,

over the rain washed bench,

across the orphaned railway line

and onto the little wooden houses along the bank

framing their pretty colored rooftops

Red, blue, pink and yellow.

A few days hence there will be a dusk no more

only a perpetual light and a kingdom of life dying to come alive.