Hope is a paper crown
sparkling with gold glitter.
Light in weight, a feather.
A strong gust of wind
may jolt it free.
Tossed up, flung down,
doused in a torrent,
its flimsiness risks
its stability,
dissolves the beautification.
Retrieved from the brutal
arms of a tempest
it is spread before
the healing rays of the sun.
Ultimately the crown, though battered
and torn, regains its shape.
-published Highland Park Daily Poem, 4-13-23
Renee Butner 