Show Me Hope Without Using the Word Hope

Disorder in the world, and continuing desolation.
But cautiously, we step outside to marvel:
a  warm day in mid-December as if in summer.
Students cross the street, wearing flip-flops 
and shorts. Contrails sketch a cloudy commerce 
of lines again across the sky. Then at night, a swing 
thirty degrees colder.  I've never been in the desert,
but I've been told water hasn't forgotten it has
a home even there. Invitation is a word
that seems to be making a comeback—
no dress code, bring or don't bring a dish
or side to share. You know loneliness  
will risk its disheveled gardens, its withered 
limbs, just to hold something tight in its arms.

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