It's Easter Sunday
In McKelligan Canyon,
Sunrays crawling over mountain tops
Turning blue gray into gradual gray green.

The song of angels from the misty hill,
"He is Risen" from tradition's books
Folding chairs and blankets on an old river bed,
The morning's damp chill.

Daters, families, sleeping babes, tots and teens,
Hundreds gathered together at once,
The long winter gone, the yearly thrill,
Song of Songs eternal.




Watch these pages for more musings by Norma.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.

Fate's Finger

Early Morning Hiker

Tadpole, Tadpole


July Rain


A Cabin in the Woods

Fishing Upstream

And.......for many others, click the index image.

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Graphics by Marilyn