Winter, when icy frost can burn and turn
Us into warm retreat, locked away
In sleep, quiet contemplation,
Hungry hibernation.
Northwoods lakes, rivers, streams and brooks
Rest in deep slumber caught in timeless oblivion
Awaiting the awakening.
Winter’s frozen face rigid
And unforgiving.
On my languid winter lake
Primed by unexpected aeration
Black pools of liquid life
Dot the winter white
Slender otter swims and dances
In aquatic delight forgetting for a time
The long winter night
What does she think of this strange turn?
Water in winter falling into white
May your inner otter always find
Open water in winter.
Mike Ryan

