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Hope

Ingrid Goff-Maidoff
One Thousand Evenings More

 

 I hung hope out with the laundry,
clothes-pinned tenderly
beside a pillowcase and two sheets.
I could tell she needed air,
a sweet puff of wind.
She needed to get warm again
basking in the sun.

After a few hours,
I came out with my basket
and took her down.
We both felt refreshed.

She said, "don't put me in the closet with the sheets.
Spread me on your table.
Let your guests spill their wine and crumbs of bread.
Wash me gently, put me back in the sun.

Lay me across your bed,
so I may warm you in the night.
Or put me on  the children's bed,
that I might comfort their dreams.

Whatever you do," she said,
"include me.
It is the only way that I can live."

 

FROM THE CHAPBOOK, CALLING FORTH THE RICHES

THIS POEM IS AVAILABLE AS A CARD FOR $3.

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