Every Spring . . . .
Every Spring we would wait for it-- the snow cover of the fields to melt a gush of water gathered up plummeting through the crease in the hill down down down into the creek swelling the trickling stream of the little bubbling spring on the east side of the coulee near the pasture’s north fence. Winnipeg’s Winter just settled in. As I step out on the frozen porch gentle murmuring meets my ear, a welcome warm Spring sound. Welling up through a pavement hole near the neighbour’s gate water rises washes the pavement clean and flows sixty feet along the Young Street curb then down down the sewer entrance goes. A city spring sprung, a glimmer reminder Of a season to come