• White Hope
    By: Soulrise

    The morning is cold
    cutting through quilts.

    I come out of my cocoon
    of eight hour hibernation.

    Looking past glass
    wiping off condensation
    to view white hope.

    With assignments unfinished
    relying on that seventy percent chance
    channel thirteen offered.

    It’s a chance.
    it's risky
    but it’s all I’ve got.

    Peering over the sill
    I pray with fury
    My breath is held…

    Sitting on the beds edge
    head is bent,
    Resting in palms.

    Joy plays on my lips…