Hope is a chameleon;
But I can find her
Where others see nothing - -
She can’t hide from me.
Hope tries to wiggle
Through my fingers,
But I grasp her
Close to my chest,
Stroke her spotted head,
Coax her to stay.
When the sun sets,
Hope and I cling
To each other in the dark,
Until the bright moon rises.
Then Hope and I search the stars for signs.
We know our dream is the truth,
Our wish will be fulfilled,
And we will work for that end.
With Hope nuzzled to my neck,
I travel fearlessly.
Patricia Prewitt
May 22, 2007
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