I am nameless strange and you don’t know me, not anymore. Dismissed as an unread book; sent away with covers torn off. The bad weather that you love keeps you indoors eating hot curry and thinking foolish thoughts. What narcissism separates you and me? After blinking eyes you find our sameness, bend near me and whisper my name.
Have faith in fruit
A LITTLE EXTRA HOPE
What will you do with a little extra hope?
Asked my quizzical sponsor.
What good is a little hope?
A little hope got you sober,
What can you do with a little more?
Could you take out your dreams
And fly them on a breeze?
Could you throw yourself
Into a wave of intention
And see if you could ride it out?
Breathe easier, smile broader?
Take my hand tighter
And walk the road awhile longer
Before you run for refuge?
Let me ask a better question.
What couldn’t you do with a little more hope?
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault