Don't call it hope or you'll scare it away

Candace Kronen

Call it window or thread or undone button, call it plump lips

and the slip of a sound, open palm with a single split seed

whispers of paw prints in a blanket of snow, baby hairs

and broccoli sprouts, call it half hug of a parenthesis,

handprint in the cave, defiant little fiddlehead

pushing through the dirt, call it a clearing

of the throat, first stroke of a bow, call it

Asha call it Violet call it Chekhov’s

smoking gun, call it Holmesian

pipe with a fresh tobacco tin,

pink streak of aurora

squinting through the

clouds, call it leaving

space for a casual

cosmic mystery,

call it, just call it

and don’t close

the door.

More from Candace Kronen ↓

1. @candacekronenpoetry on Instagram
2. Her Substack: Stories I'll Tell My Daughter
3. She is co-editor and publisher of If You Ever: Poems Inspired by Kim Addonizio
4. Listen to me read, When I can’t sleep, I Google how the world ends. by Candace on Instagram at @rembrandts.cure