Love the smell of wood burning on a frosty morning when I head in from hanging clothes on the line.
The ground is encrusted in ice this morning
while the pond is liquid still
reminding me that
in my dreams
I was frolicking
in lovely, temperate waters
began to swell.
Alarmed, I made my way toward the bank
and just as I lifted myself out
what was once fluid, grew as solid
as the earth.