As the pond grows colder
Duck weed is gathering green Forming continents on dark water. Webbed feet balance on branches And the moorhen fortifies her twig mound As the pond grows colder. A slither of winter Is snaking the air and under, The softest warning. A rat streaks across the stream, Hurried And the squirrels have extra handfuls of Berries My cardiganed arms are folded - I too have to store these faces For when I'm surrounded by walls And forgetful of the part of me That lives under trees And heron wings.