Tiny or Immense, Who Cares?

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

The hope we need at break of day waits, small,

And does not have to be as large as sky

And cosmos in the blue, but only tall

Enough for each clear open, waiting eye.

Two sets of eyes, both yours and mine, would be

The best for hope, but one will work if you

Have left and gone to some beyond, the sort of plea

That gods might make, yet what was left in lieu

Of hope waits like the cripples, males in wards

Of war.  They might get up but then again

Might not, and if they don’t, so what?  Gods’ chords

Make mercy lack all humor in such pain.

  Perhaps the clouds in blackness mean the most,

    Despite the sunrise orange and moon-slice boast.

~ Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Aug 21, 2023 | CH, DE, ST | 0 comments