As the swans of winter land on mirrored boughs,
Patting the perfect sheen with wrinkled feet
I will watch from the far shore,
Scarlet leaves churned feather-white.
As ice forms in the shallows
And black-backed trout ponder
A season free of hooks and flies
My shadow will drape the shore like dusk.
As this hardy land settles into white and black
To await the gentle tilt that tells of spring
My crystal breath will scatter snowflakes,
Glaze bitter trees to delight the moon.

Nomad Omnia

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/frost-9/