Findhorn Bay Ice

From tide to tide the
Ocean brings us ice
Or so it sometimes seems

As a sluggish flow nudges floes
Past the house,
Upstream

In the brackish waters of the bay
Unbroken blocks intently grow
The murmuring gurgled river's voice
Guttural now, and low

From time to time a sharpening crack
As pistol shot
Alarms the grazing geese

Bouncing sound off Culbhin's trees
And long along the night
Beneath a moon filling
Stilling, glacial,light,
Not one breath
Of air relieving breeze.