If balance is the bling
then there’s nothing we can do,
but balance on the midnight of the things we
want and wonder when the daylight will break through.

My razor’s sharp and ready
though my hands are
not too steady
and the coffee’s long since
cooled down in the pot.

For hope to have a hope
there must be hope
and if there’s not
we’ll continue as we were,
balancing at midnight on
the strings that pull at
shaving off a little daylight
for the rainy days to come.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.