Poetry

Hope

When was the day that hope crept in,
Snuck past these paper walls so hastily erected,
Futile to stop the downpour of a sudden storm?

Was it in that moment looking at the morning sky,
Seeing the sun shine over the dirty rain clouds,
Cleansing their tops, renewing them?

Or was it in that instance crossing the street,
Feeling the air so dry and crisp
That there was no chance of tears?

Or was it in that temporary silence at night,
Devoid of the familiar whispering expectations
Finally content in the here and now?

I don’t know....

But seeing the new dampness on the streets in the morning
Feeling a sadder chill in the air during the day
Hearing the sound of a phone that never rings before bed every night.

I know that despite it all,
Hope crept past these crumbling walls.