Once,
I was walking along
the wooded river trail
on a a cold, take-
your-breath away morning.
I walked past
where the river tumbles
nosily over the granite rocks
to a calm beaver-pond inlet.
As I slowed to
plan my path across
the rocks to the other side,
it moved.
The surface of the water
grew taut,
then relaxed, dipping back down
into the water.
Taut, relaxed;
taut, relaxed,
pulsing . . .breathing!
The water looked
like it was breathing
as the surface
began to freeze
before my eyes.
composting words 
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Such vivid imagery to accompany your photo. Did you take the photograph? Beautiful.
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Yes I did take the photograph. Thanks for asking and for the compliment. It was really an amazing experience.
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As seasons’ change, flows do also from liquid, to vapor to ice Very nice poem Cyn
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