maybe it’s good to
buck yourself up for disappointment.
only so many times can you
wish for greener grasses
to get gravel instead.
maybe hope for nothing at all, but
just this once,
you could be wrong.
just this once,
it could be lush and rich and
filled with living creatures
hidden deep among its roots.
just this once,
it could be possible to
let yourself breathe it in,
breathe it all in
without the last breath looming,
with the knowledge that you can come back to this,
fill yourself to the brim or overflowing.
just this once,
you could be wrong, and
when you ask to sit with him,
he offers to hold you instead.
just this once,
it could be better than you imagined.

Reagan Fleming