hope
hope
hope and expectation
a swift heart-clutching dread
please
it’s the hope
a longlasting eye-closing dread
fear of the future
close to hope for the worst
and then deliverance
the stab and realisation
as the hope swirls away
acceptance
and almost enjoyment
it is not a fault
in itself
to see angels in your yard
or to chase them away
by flapping your arms
and making barking noises
like the yellow-brown mongrel from three doors down
not in itself
you sit down on the kerb
head in hands
elbows on knees
breathing a challenge
now the angels are gone
you know they will be back though
rustling and humming in the corner of the yard
when the blue lights stop spinning
and those lovely young men
in their spearmint green kit
finish drinking their tea
you sit down
in the house now
and the silence is broken
only by the yellow-brown mongrel
and a forethought of humming
there’s plenty more biscuits
you say to yourself
monochrome photographs
I remember in colour
photographs and dreams
laptop time ticks
lo-fi brush beats
outside the window
if I opened my eyes
long-billed birds stand curved on the wet field
in the wild land the thistle
sways
but is never broken
promises held chest tight
hope never forsaken
sunset silhouette
as the tide slowly rises
my breath is taken
lonely and alone
jagged lines on fresh-mown grass
blackbirds have all flown
As I walk up the hill
from a blue sky a hard rain falls,
driving leaves and flowers to the ground.
As I shelter briefly a man
with a broom and a shovel and a puffed-out black bin bag
shouts
Good morning!
It’s like the confetti after a wedding
or after the Lord Mayor’s Show!
Behind him, the bag tips over and a stream
of brown and pink and green gutters down the street.
Told you! he shouts. Just like it!
summertime patience
waiting for the bee to buzz
longing for arrival
powder falls as dust
in the meantime so hopeful
we do all we must
