Each spring the people of he prairies,from the Dakotas, up through Saskatchewan and Manitoba watch and wait for the Red River to flood.
The Crows are mobbing in the crossroads.
The snow is slipping away. Down
the coulee bottom the catkins
are crawling up the willows:
Little silver pussies breaking from
their winter sleep.
Soon the coulees will be loud
with melt water running. Running
For Hudson’s Bay far away north;
as winter’s moisture becomes spring’s flood.
The vernal green mantle will shortly follow.
Spring is a tease and spring is a terror
Floods and new life blizzards and gentle rain
Seed time looking for harvest
Spring on the northern plains.
The quaint little town of Pinecrest in the mountains of Arizona faces its most harrowing challenge yet—a chilling murder that sends shockwaves through the community.
Marcus Lee, Pinecrest's newly appointed police chief, finds himself at the cente
Maria, raised in the Mafia and educated by the gangs of New York, is hunting the man who killed her Akalina, and she will kill anyone who gets in her way.
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A poem with wealth of imagery
Most enjoyable write
Peace be with you
William