Each and every cycle,


after month,


after year,

I tried to quell my


but my head could not guard

my heart

from that small spark of anticipation,


that fanned at the edges

of my vision,

a pilot light that refused

to be snuffed,

no matter how often the flames

of hope were





Cheryl Boyer‘s poems, short stories, and photographs have appeared or are upcoming in Kakalak, Iodine Poetry Journal, The Main Street Rag, and moonShine review. She lives in a small town in North Carolina with her husband and two children who are often subject to her pen or lens. She’s also a home-schooling mama, a sometimes foster mom, and tries to eat a bit of dark chocolate every day. You can find out more about her at www.myferriswheel.com.