Hope Goes Whoosh!
We just could not believe our luck.
A For Sale sign on the house next door.
It’s like seeing buds on the tulips
after a hard winter, I could hear
birds sing when I drove home through
traffic. What a day of jubilation.
For months we shaped our faces
into friendly beacons, smiled if it
killed us. All the while their kids
left junk all over our backyard,
he never touched the lawn mower
and let dandelion seeds spread
over the whole township, and God,
their damn radio blasting away
day and night. Will we celebrate!
When I met the guy coming home
I said (I hope) in a neighborly tone,
‘‘We will be glad to help you move.’’
‘‘Oh,’’ he answered, ‘‘you didn’t notice?
We’ve changed our minds, took down the sign.’’
Did you ever wonder how a balloon feels
when it bursts? That’s our sky-high
hopes stuck full of pins.
Notes and Commentary
Is the journal Focus or Focus Midwest?