It would take weeks
to walk to your house, still
our hearts so close.
*
This morning I ski
into the woods—forty years
later I ski out.
*
The snow did not stop
when I said stop, but it did
not fall forever.
*
Across the lake
invisible in the trees,
the crow in my ear.
*
That ripple
never travels and it is
always new water.
Yeah, these are tiny miracles indeed. I love that second one for its enigma, but the crow for its sensory enigma, the sight and sound conundrum. If I touched anything, I’d move the opening haiku to position number four.