Hope's Intuition

Sun splashes through
the s p a c e s
in the trees,
berating my eyes;
Overwhelming them.
I sit curved in the seat,
cold brushing around my legs,
with a feline air.
And that wish,
that everlasting statement
beats in my head
like a drum,
the sound of my heart
telling me; begging me,
“I want something good to last.”