The pond mirror
in leaden shinery
tells form
absent finery/
long-leggedy beastie
starkly spindly
twiggy as spring
winter-dwindly.
With thanks to the Bump-In-The-Night prayer.
Full disclosure, dear reader: I changed this post. A few hours after I posted it, different words started to poke around in my head. I didn’t ask for them. They just started bullying me.
Oddments 
March 22, 2020 at 10:59 am
Interesting isn’t is as we humans try to find a balance in this current pandemic that the animals are able to go about their normal routine. I think they just might be sharing a chuckle at us being confined indoors while they enjoy their natural environment without us interfering. 🙂
March 22, 2020 at 11:39 am
Yes, I think they don’t miss us at all! As to finding a balance in this pandemic, I have no idea what it might be. I’m grateful to have the birds to watch in these dark days, and I was really pleased to see this gorgeous heron back and looking quite splendid.
March 22, 2020 at 8:01 pm
I agree with the assessment about animals. I gaze out our window and my spirits are lifted seeing pelicans fly by. Your picture of the heron is fantastic!
March 22, 2020 at 8:06 pm
Thanks! I was glad to see its return, though it looked a bit chilly.
March 23, 2020 at 2:15 am
Better to have too many words (bouncing around in your head) than too few.
March 23, 2020 at 9:03 am
True, true!
March 24, 2020 at 5:50 pm
I like winter dwindly but only have a vague understanding of it.
March 24, 2020 at 6:42 pm
I’m glad you like it. As I read more about the mysteries of poetry, and fully realizing that rhyme is not the same as poetry, I give myself permission sometimes to experiment. I thought that branches that once wore snow and were changing to slightest budding could be seen as signs of a dwindling winter. Ergo, winter dwindly. Spellcheck objects, of course.