<html><head></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><span class="poem"><p>Hope and Love</p><p>All winter<br>the blue heron<br>slept among the horses.<br>I do not know<br>the customs of herons,<br>do not know<br>if the solitary habit<br>is their way,<br>or if he listened for<br>some missing one—<br>not knowing even<br>that was what he did—<br>in the blowing <br>sounds in the dark.<br>I know that<br>hope is the hardest<br>love we carry.<br>He slept<br>with his long neck<br>folded, like a letter<br>put away.</p></span><div apple-content-edited="true"><br><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Jane Hirshfield</div></body></html>