Hope (2nd draft…)

April 29, 2008

Another day it smells of coffee,
like my mother found in Panama
returning from her cruise.

It fills a warm house,
the inside cuff of a woolen cardigan;
anxious on a bus, it comforts you.

Sometimes, hope tastes
like a cough sweet, reminds of the time
you lay in bed – sits on your tongue,

hums like a gun, alpine forest,
sharp ice cube. It’s a bell ringing,
sail stirred – blue sunlight over hull.

Hope anchors you. Touching it,

you feel dunes – feathers,
the clean bowl of a silk bag,
the balloon cord that you tried to grab

but missed, as a child.

If hope were here –
it would watch for you,
would move quickly,

press it’s string into your hand.

On the other side of this
wild night – someone else cups palms;
feels beating, wings brushing –

something small, light as fire.

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2 Responses to “Hope (2nd draft…)”

  1. Pam said

    I really like this-the move revised form works. Lovely mysterious ending.

  2. I like this, the comparisons you make and the ending

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