The river, she has tempered to her liquid state.
The April rains has melted snows , there is but a fair trace.
The winds are moving briskly, persuading clouds to go beyond.
I foresee the leafing of the trees
and the cold weather, now withdrawn.

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The river, she now wears her silver spring
overcast skies
Patterned with criss- crossing stripes
the lines of oaks ever present on her banks
momentarily decorated with dark moving images
as avian groups migrate
Spring is emerging ( at long last)
snows are receding
the foothills regaining their active energies
supporting all life
ever changing.