I used to be hard and loud with hope His MRI Their marriage Her illness My mind The pandemic Histology Climate Money I used to grasp At a spar in a squall But it crumbled in my grip I used to howl My throat raw with No But nobody heard I used to think My hope held weight, influence But look - It was gossamer It had no sway Now, my hope is soft and still And singular I hope only for a heart that can hold Whatever comes
Photo by Florian Klauer.
