Creation of Hope

During the epidemic,
diaries said,
“Who will be dead
in the morning?”

During the diaspora
it was the same,
the sanest claim,
“This, too, shall pass.”

At some point, tears stop leaking.
You don’t know it,
feeling a bit
shaky and numb.

In the morning, dawn creeps up
in the same way —
slowly and vague,
suddenly there.

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