The Shape of Hope

What does hope look like to you?

"Hope, Nearly Not There"

By David Breeden

There’s no package called hope.

Nothing at a shop to look for. Hope

won’t store like hay in a barn. It is a

last leaf on a branch in deep winter.

It is a singular thing, firm when it’s

found—a hand reached out. A word

to the marrow. Hope is fine-grained,

like lavender gone to seed. Gossamer,

a moth’s wings. There’s no weight

called hope. It’s a hand; a whisper;

a moment shared. Nearly not there.

But, like a shadow, there all the same.

Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash