Hope The night is soft with sleepy leaves and the ghost of a gauzy curtain. There is satin in the way you float into dreams, your arms open and open again. The hissing sound you heard all day has finally stopped. Everything put outside with the trash, sitting at the curb, it is fizzled and over, until tomorrow when it all returns, baby-new, plump as a berry whole as the same old promise of another, better day.
Francine Witte’s poetry and fiction have appeared in Smokelong Quarterly, Wigleaf, Mid-American Review, and Passages North. Her latest books are Dressed All Wrong for This (Blue Light Press,) The Way of the Wind (AdHoc fiction,) and The Theory of Flesh (Kelsay Books.) Her chapbook, The Cake, The Smoke, The Moon (flash fiction) will be published by ELJ in Fall 2021. She is flash fiction editor for Flash Boulevard and The South Florida Poetry Journal. She lives in NYC.
Amethyst Review 