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
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