october, when the changes come

october,
when the changes come,
and, lately,
when you wait
for hope and estimation
of tomorrow’s peace

and without
an illusion as
to how it
will be found:
from inside what has been to
where you are going

and leaving
behind the voices
telling you
constantly,
that you must always wait, and
never really find

the smallest / bit of twisted hope …

the smallest
bit of twisted hope
comes softly
snaking through
the windblown grass of summer
and reaching autumn

there she stands
unafraid of life
but worried
she might want
more than life can give and less
than her best options