Not enough (to hope) [Day 657]

I’m sorry, but it’s not enough 

to hope, to sink down in despair 

and watch the falling rain. 

It’s not enough to talk 

about the changes we want now,

and expect someone, somehow

to make them for us. Enough

is a slippery slope, a one-lane road 

from light-drenched peaks to forests, 

dark and cool, treacherously banked 

around snaking curves. Enough 

is watchful, mindful, careful, thankful 

for what shines. It’s willing to work 

for what makes life worth living, 

to fight lazy ambivalence and 

battle the cruel folly of ignorance. 

No, I’m sorry, but hope will never 

be enough. A freedom like ours 

commands us to embrace the words 

inscribed on parchment, bronze, 

and stone—with generous hearts, 

we live; we die, alone.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Patrick Gillespie/Flickr (CC BY 2.0)

What I Am Not (Day 489)

I am not a Japanese Tea Garden.

I am a radiant beam of light.

I am not a tortilla chip.

I am a cup of coffee, black.

I am not an endless pity-party.

I am a reading light by a comfortable 

   chair on an early-winter evening.

I am not wandering down 

    the lane and far away.

I am looking at the moon. 

I am not a new pair of shoes that 

   make you run faster, jump higher.

I am a knitted sweater starting 

   to unravel under the left arm.

I am not Brussels’ Musée du cacao et 

   du chocolat.

I am an open bottle of coriander-scented 

   lotion from the Georgetown Kiehl’s.

I am not your favorite YA book ever.

I am a sleepless, sweaty August night

   without air conditioning.

I am not anyone’s president, elected 

   or otherwise.

I am someone who would have done 

   a much better job.

I am not a writer of stories and poems.

I am the language they speak.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: David Ohmer/Flickr

Stardust, lyrics: Mitchell Parish  

I’ll Be Seeing You, lyrics: Irving Kahal 

Gingko (Day 249)

Xanthous gingko quilt

Fetid swathe of silken fans

Unfurled overnight

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: TeamGrayDuck