My hands turn into fists

Sit with me.

The rain will be here soon.

 The smell is in the air.

Did I startle you?

Sorry, for that.

  I tend to wander.,

   and this Garden is my home.

How do you get along on two feet?

Never mind,

 Flutterby help me.

"Are you well?"

Innocents.

 How do I answer?

This body no longer feels like my own.

I had a shell.

  and now I have hands turning into fists.

"just taking  a moment.

  Catch my breath,

   and watching the hummingbirds."

Mistake on my part,

 but might as well  help with the seclusion.

"Where are they?"

Gives me a smile.

"You are used to the regular humming-birds aren't you?"

This is how you start a story. Give your audience a questions.

Hesitant "Yes" is my reply,

 so now I am stuck.

Never leave a story untold,

  even if it hasn't told.

Kinda a rule.

Trust me.

"Silent one?  You never heard her?'

  No?

Shining light zipping through the branches?

  No?

Stretch for a moment.

  Neck is so stiff.

I blame the rain.

Holde out my arms,

 tremors from the effort,

  and call.

"Hope, and Warmth,

   I need you now.

 Love and Help,

  roost on my shoulders.

 Humor, and doubt,

   quit your bickering,

 and join us.

For a moment I feel whole,

 but I know it can't last.

All of my wings are meant to fly,

Still, I sit.

 Tired.

   New body.

  Hands curl into fists.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we all have our hands balled into fists...and right now i think we all want to fly away from what is happening...but if we do, we know we have to fly solo.
j.

[Jon Roggie]

In all honesty, my hands clench. Damage has been done, and so it goes. I am tired, and I can't do enough.