Find Peonies momentarily
in their early morning’s full bloom,
revealing what lies within,
the layers fall delicately
as they burst open in true beauty.
Grey is all,
facets of a fading sun’s light,
shades of fractioned or dazzling blanks,
even painfully bright darknesses.
And a poet’s lips would never whisper
why their minds are filled with silver
and their hearts are made of glass.