There is always hope

There is always hope

Dancing in

Shadows at the edge

Of sight

Sighing as the wind

Rustles through willow trees

Hanging low over the river

Tickling the water

With feathery fingers

Whispering secrets

To the minnows

Swapping stories

With mute swans

Rubbernecking

To their own love song

Spirits lifted

On the rise of a spring tide

A wave of optimism

Pushing at the boundaries

Of demarcation

Blurring the distinction

Between resignation

And forbearance

As days dissolve

One into another

The shape of a head

Bobbing through a crowd

Enough to follow

As a child once chased

A red balloon

Far beyond

Journey’s end

A familiar memoir

Visited from time to time

Stoked by irrationality

And failure to align

The frayed edges

Of an old story

To the final cut.