Savannah Watson

Things have not been okay…

not in a long time.

As you drive to work on that frozen winter morning,

you look at the sky – really see it –

for the first time in a long time.

All you see is a sky painted dark, foreboding grey –

a cold, miserable winter storm.

The road elevates slightly, and just above the tree line,

there is a strip of crystalline, baby blue and a warm hint of the sun.

You pull into a dingy gas station,

and you cry.

You had never realized that hope isn’t silver;

it’s gentle blue and golden sunshine yellow.

It’s the break in the clouds that tells you

everything is going to be okay.

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