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Hope Has No Wings - A Preview of a New Poetry Collection

A hummingbird in flight, backlit to be a silhouette.
Image via Unsplash.

I intend to release a new poetry collection sometime this year, so I thought I'd give you a preview of what's going to be in it. Enjoy!


My hope is not a thing with wings

It is brittle and crumbling

Shreds of something I scrounge together

On bleeding hands and knees

Hope is crushed in my mortar

Ground into a fine powder that chokes me

Making me gag and cough as I mix in

My will and my time and my drive

And grind and grind and grind

Until I have something akin to a paste

Something I can roll out and shape

Force to take form and coalesce

Then drive into the fires of action

Of my screaming and suffering and anger

I will be hopeful, I will, I will

Until it is first fired

Then I can glaze it in tears and sweat and blood

Color it with my colorful language

As I recover from the burns of retrieving it too soon

I can send it back into the flames

Where hope goes from a fragile thing

To a strong thing of beauty and use

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