Hibernate 

Cold dark silent mirror
Lying beneath cat tails and bent bladed grass
Swollen with ice melt and winter rains
The pond sleeps
Shallow even breaths sway tall pines
Expressionless rivulets flow in and flow out
Without intention
Pure conduits of motion
Neither fowl nor amphibian tread the shallows
Only delinquent drops from the thin canopy
Disturb the surface
Rings of random movement

-T. Weeks
(A response to “To a Locomotive in Winter”)