watching the mama moose
wade in the shallow lake—
remembering to breathe
*
clear night
inside the tent
raining by dawn
*
beside the campfire
singing an old song
no one else knows
*
night so quiet
I hear the river roaring
inside my thoughts
*
the world so itself
and inside me
the blessing of blessings
*
even a crow
can be trained to talk—
come, hurt, find your words
*
everywhere we step
a ring of mushrooms—
oh if a path could laugh
*
eating wild strawberries—
the heart, too, is accustomed
to bliss in small bites