New Hope Your wrinkled smile cloaks the pain. And as your tongue catches silent tears you look at me and say “All is well, I’m doing fine”. Coffee in hand your soul weeps. You’re not so strong tonight, grief entangled with dross. As we chat, I cry inside, “Must exclusion arise, afflict again your wound?” His presence comes. We wait for dawn in prayerful vigil till rays of hope caress your face. © Craig A. Roberts, 2019