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.