Daily missive breaks into the weekend for Saturday the 12th of January.
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.
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