Where Hope Finds Me

I imagine hope
to be like other sub-atomic particles,
charmed and strange,
as it ricochets its way
through the human atmosphere,
looking to bond
with a host
who stands on frozen earth,
under azure skies,
arms upturned
and shivering slightly
at the thought
that today
is really
today.

Turning Hope Around

Clouds roll in.
Obscuring the sun,
diffusing the light,
turning ochre to amber
to rust
as the rains fall
       (again)
on already sodden ground,
flooding past hope
and, strangely,
leaving me dry.