Pond LifeThe lily pads are rimmed with brownthis grim November day.By month’s end, they’ll disappearbeneath dead oak leaves and tiredstraw-colored pine needles.The leaf-needle stew will sink,and lily pads will be revealedonce more before winter,ragged but floating.Then ice. Snow. Ice. Snow.Thaw—Solid ice will turn translucentthen transparent, and we’ll seethe bottom of the pond again.We’ll see lily … Continue reading Pond Life – a poem by Sheila Wellehan