Hope comes towards me
crawling on it’s belly, ears back,
tail tucked, protecting vulnerability;
an abandoned, abused shelter dog,
dark wet eyes, crusty nose,
unkempt, wary, cautious
ever expecting a heavy hand.
Trembling, hope waits for a sliver of light,
a slice of the moon, a solar flare,
an angel kiss fluttering on the cheek,
to replace fear with myriad cleansing breaths
from a mother’s prayer.
It is then that hope
will warm itself around my heart,
relax it’s shoulders,
stretch, sigh, and whisper
“Thank you,” to the gods it does not yet know.
Poet, Charlene Moskal resides in Las Vegas, Nevada. Her poems are published in the anthology “Clark County Poets, 2017,” and “Legs of Tumbleweed, Wings of Lace,” an anthology of Nevada women poets and prose writers. In a previous incarnation, Charlene taught High School visual arts theater and communication.