A screen door bangs with the wind
chimes slipping through the branches
of our planted trees
gather each brilliant layer of snow
crystal skin
expected through tomorrow afternoon.
And I know you are listening to their laughter;
and I know you watched us when we ran to the door
to hear the owls
who have returned
after a year of silence.
![](https://littlehouseinamerica.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Jan-22-owls-2-1024x683.jpeg)