Hope

When the sky turns Lakeland slate,

there’s nothing left to do but wait

for ominousness – maybe brightness –

on its way to bless.

 Trees are waving and a gap is near.

Turn to the sky and ache

for a far, far mountain

and long for affectation,

real hope.

Trees are waving and a gap is near.

When you glimpse its snowy top

your heart will leap

like hares – for real work

to start today – to begin – to do.