Love's Open Season

There, .......in the meadow...... ........exposed, trembles my heart.... wide-open for all the hunters of love to view.... ....frozen, in place.... muscles tense.... trying to avoid the self- perceived dangers even a slight flinch may bring........ This place was once a garden of rejuvination and needed space .... that healed all wounds, now......an unsureness fills the misty air, revealing scattered pieces of what it is this heart has been running from..... words, like bullets, shot forth from the trusted emotion, called love..... piercing, burning, betraying my heart of the comfort that lured me once before to this meadow ...... A trophy, for an insecure hunter with no passion of his hunt?...not .this heart , it shall return when the timing feels right...and the clover does not taste quite so bitter....