Hope for the Little Things That Make You Glad

You’ll come upon them first,
Before the ruins. Make
Believe you don’t need them,

And you’ll break them, for sure.
Your head won’t stop lifting,
Heavy as it’s gotten,

To look at the distance
To try to imagine
Life as you’d arrange it.

Here you are, patch of grass
And a teacup you like,
A pleasant enough day.

Hope for this. Hope for these
Things we are, we can bring
You, our plausible gift.