[Critique Group 1] Sally's October submission

[Sally Rosenthal]

                                HOPEFUL Hands

 

 

Each day I wake

With hopeful hands

Willing to perform

Purposeful tasks 

Or Acts of random kindness.

 

The stupor of grief

Has lifted, leaving me

Bewildered on strange paths,

Adrift at sea holding

A broken compass with 

No stars to guide me.

 

Autumn turns to winter, and 

My hands find work of

Their own accord, but my spirit, 

Like frozen fields, lies fallow

Waiting for the warmth of spring.

 

Sally Rosenthal

 

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