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.