In the end
Holding on to hope
Was worse
Than releasing her despair.
It was an ionized illusion
St. Elmos' blaze
Without the burn.
-    But still
     She held her hands out
     Towards this flame
And even as they froze
She kept her eye on the fire
Transfixed
By the etheric images
That leapt from the embers.

Had she pounded
The subfusc earth
To rail against her lot
And slapped the salty rills
From her cheeks
She might have lived.
But she stood still
Too buoyed by hope
To notice
That the flame was cold
And icing her bones.