A gap between cars, a silence,
The space between each line:
The hand that moves to hold the head--
No, no, no. A cup of water on the counter
And there’s hope. I take a breath, hold.
Release, and say, Hope. What I miss
When I blink (and I can’t stop blinking)
May be the lushness of a meadow
Full of yellow columbines and bees.
I may miss nothing at all, just and ending.
