Inside, tempests brew for all the quiet I show
Perhaps my discontent has grown wings
living an existence of stress mounds
where time firmly holds all *****.

I dreamed of gulls giving birth while flying
and catching lumps of coal in their claws
the babies fall halfway to the world
and start flying over hills.

That's got my vote for hope in a world
where kindness is a word
and love just a verbose trinket.