“…December, with ice and spirit trails.” – Diane Porter
Still wetland pond splits into fractals.
Steamy mist floats above chilly water.
Fragile ice rims shallow pool,
encrusts frosted tules.
Red-winged blackbirds cling to burst cattails
leaking cottony stuffing.
Sycamores and elms shed their rags,
shower mud with gold and orange foliage.
A flotilla of geese drift into protected cove.
The mallard and his mate stroke toward
hidden nest, clutch of eggs,
future family of ducklings.
Angle of rising sun illuminates naked limbs.
Overnight, seasons shift from autumn to winter.
Sparkling rime coats emerald grass.
The warm-blooded shiver.