where reality meets hope
is a narrow path…
pretty much a rabbit run
between two bushy densities
along a fallen fenceline
of fieldstone pulled with sweat
from the space that once grew oats.

where reality meets hope
is a buckled doorjamb
bloated out by summer’s
humid sun
where closure doesn’t nicely happen
without a forceful tug.

where reality meets hope
is another thin page
in the calendar guilty
of assault for papercutting
the tip (just below the nail),
of an ill-timed finger.

where reality meets hope
is the nascent separation
between shoe and sole
spurred by every step
both false and true:

this the price
(or is it the wage?)
of walking.