Hope Enough
There is that parable that the old ones tell
of when they were hurried off in war and
Mother stopped to pack her suitcase careful
with the fruit that they could not fathom more
how she expected it to save – yet despite the pounding she had
done to get the case to close – despite the crack across its side split as a
departing dispute did rave –
Despite the pounding, the birdsong faith of packing this
suitcase with fruit filled– there was a flicker of hope wafting in the
cattle-car as the gentle decomposing fragrance spilled
