Cold, cold, cold
The snow fog sits on the bay
Moves inland to etch the trees
With a silver sheen of crystals
Then moves out to sea.
Squirrels fuss with the crows
as they search for corn and seed
Small birds and woodpeckers
Are storming the feeders
Backlit by the purple grey of the bay
It’s a busy morning in the cold.
The bay
Pink, blue, purple
with ruffles of shifted ice in blue gray
Changes by the second with fog,
Light and tide.
Distance changes
Shores recede and disappear
in banks of cloud
Emerging whitened
with a brush of ice
Underneath the water rises and falls
Every day, every hour, every season
