Hope and Love, Jane Hirshfield
I love horses. I love herons. They both harbor an inscrutable nobility. Calm, flighty, always self-possessed, they do not let you approach them unless you have patiently won their confidence. Are you the heron or the observer? What speculation do you bring to the quiet reserve of others, those with solitary habits, listening, wondering if you can earn their trust? What letter do you have folded within you, words written or unwritten, said or unsaid? Hope is the hardest love we carry. Must we carry it alone?
Todd Breyfogle, Denver, Colorado