Hope Clearing Its Throat

On glass, rainbows, and the quiet acrobatics of light

Dear friends,

This poem developed after I misread Jonathan Potter ‘s poem and the note he tagged me in! I suppose I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and so his last line is not quite my first line. Anyone for a game of Chinese Whispers?!

Nevertheless, I quite like how my poem turned out, so here it is:

HOPE CLEARING ITS THROAT

When glass grabs the light,
magic swirls, 
giddy on rainbows.

Luminescence leaps,
lands,
pulses joy
through silent exaltations.

Hope waits in a dark corner,
wishing we would listen.



With love and gratitude,

Francesca xx


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