R.D. Hartwellr

An ice cake forms in the concrete bowl at 32
degrees, more accurately an ice pie or pizza,
frozen sometimes all the way through, clear,
yet distorted by the curve of the cake of ice.

Other times, only an inch or so is solid.

If carefully lifted and tilted it forms a
circular porthole transforming the view.

Visions of backyard birds in winter
ice skating the surface of the birdbath,
seeking water only to find an alien planet.