Four Glimpses of Hope This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

May 1, 2010
Like a tightrope walker, never looking down
Hope takes a step, and-
Continues toward the other end,
Balancing, never wavering,
Her parasol in one hand,
Her skirts in the other.

Hope is a curious stranger, looking
In empty houses, running
Through empty fields, smiling
To find each new day.
Is the cold-hearted jail warden
Who turns
The key in the lock, and turns
Sunshine into unhappy moonlight
With the wave of his hand.

To the stars and back
Hope dances on her toes
Along a hard wood floor
Under lights that hurt her eyes
Her performance is over
And she sits in an empty dressing room
And waits for the applause.

Hope’s blank canvas
Tears into ugly scraps of gray
As crying fills the room
And Worry takes over,
Binding Hope's arms in a straight-jacket,
Destroying her paintings
Tipping watercolors and jars of brushes,
Leading her, weeping, from the room.

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