Hope

Dawn barely happened, as a dirty, soft grey light grew, finally showing the dripping bare branches outlined against a clinging mist.  And then the moment came when a fire grew behind the further trees, hope grew as from a glowing ember the sun flared and pushed at the mist-blanket.  My heart gladdened at the thought of real sunlight after days of damp gloom.  The fire grew and stained the cloud with the colour of glory and hope.  The struggle though was brief and the fire was smothered, the golden light waned once more and greyness triumphed.

Perhaps tomorrow…

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© 2020 Duncan Gough

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