Without Reserve

The sun,
artless giver,
takes us as we are,
highlighting color and form
from an infinite number of angles,
never demanding that we face only one way
for it to shine upon us. 

The Tulip

"Can you spare

a kind word?" 

asked the tulip,

but silence

was the reply. 

The tulip

folded its petals,

for now it felt like

night.

Fine Line

We see and don't always say what we see,

for charity is a delicate veil

that prudence must sometimes mend,

although the veil can sometimes wear

so very thin,

prudence feels almost like a 

lie.