Wishful Thinking

Every thought is wishful. Every word’s a dishful

of the slinking and the slippery: no spoon can spoon it up:

but oh, its swoon – its glistening effects! Somehow,

in listening, we catch – detect -- a spill of overtone,

an iridescent whisper of relief: engendering the wild belief

that this time, this time – it will come. Blinking, we grab

fistfuls of its dare, and maybe aren’t anywhere – but there –

the wishful thinking simmers, hangs suspended --

teasing spirit! -- glimmers, not so distant, in our earthly air.

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