It was her habit
to keep secrets
never betray a confidence
and
find it hard to trust
those who were over friendly
with compliments and kind words
often the first to loosen arrow
better then to step back
stifle trust sufficiently
take time to know the measure
best found
when things are not golden
but a helping hand is needed
to pull the drowning man from his wet
fall
then we can be sure
they’ll not let go so easily
the bearers of trust
turning softly against
intention like a water
wheel will clothe itself
in the voices of the well
and rise up
shaking itself off
to the turn of life again
breaking spells
of divination and miracle
all ephemeral against
the reliability of turning
in circles creating ever
increasing circles
cast like spring flowers
against the frost