Fears abound forcing the need to hide behind broken glass.

Counting the shards delicately to perfect the morass.

Admitting being wrong and guarded for too long.

Sharing this fragile tank would have been wrong.

The wolfs howl can no longer be heard.

The moon smiles on the white hummingbird.

Beckoning that it colours her any colour that it wants.

In all shades of the Casablanca lily plant.

Open from ground and above.

She is unguarded in love.

My poem for Art by @fayhelfer


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