nervous, hopeful

A ring of sunlight around a cloud,
a deserted nest, discerning wind
winds the long, gray days
like sleeping hours in a clock.

Trees lit with frost, wait for the warmth,
suggest survival in the deep curve of this earth,
a pale moon walks on the circumference,
unable to melt its snow.

In distance, whirls of smoke escape
into whole-milk sky. An old cup
with dark circles sits alone,
nervous, hopeful to touch warm lips.

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10 thoughts on “nervous, hopeful

  1. I love the whole second stanza, especially “Trees lit with frost, wait for warmth.” It took me to a favorite memory of a landscape covered in particularly thick and tenacious hoarfrost.

  2. I love the visual quality of this, and these lines: “a pale moon walks on the circumference,
    unable to melt its snow..”

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