Does the moon still shine
behind the clouds or smiles
breed behind walls of fear?
Hope will find a way, the smallest
tear in despair to light a candle.
Why look for demons or cast a net
to collect the blackest mood?
This hour is mine to sing, to watch
a robin feed the young in her nest.
If I pace the debris of tantrums,
I will be mired in my own anger.
©Susie Clevenger 2020