Vulnerable,1st Movement Poem by Whitney Jones Olson

Vulnerable,1st Movement



In the mornings, i find the rise of my passion, intensified by every footfall of the rising light's intricate dance.
In the afternoons, i sit beneath the lilac trees, inhaling the richness of possibility heavy hanging in the still air.
In the evenings, i see the sunset as a reflection of the potential of you, fading into the sweet darkling twilight.

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