It’s a funny thing how hope just doesn’t die. Expectations may, and that’s probably a good thing, but hope? it’s a persistent little thing. I like that about hope, and that’s why I tend to it and keep it alive. Even the tiniest of embers can catch and enlarge and warm a person.
Hope is the thing with feathers . . .
I’m mixing my metaphors. No matter. What matters is this:
I don’t expect.
I do hope.