The pond that once held frogs and water boatmen
Swimming intermittently between the fronds of weed
Allowed dragonflies to dip; hawk-like hunters across the surface
And was the habitat for newts, their long-tails trailing as they swam,
Is now frigid; solid with ice that doesn’t even crack
Beneath the force of a snowball.
Nothing splashes in the deep, dark depths
No heron stands at the edge statuesque and still
Seeking the slightest movement to spear with its beak.
Instead there is a still, glassiness reflecting the blue winter sky
The deer cannot drink; and the ducks can only skate across the surface
For the sub-zero, arctic winds have brought the beast from the east
And we must abide the glacial freeze as bleak winter bites.
Photo and poem copyright Englepip©