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.
