In that garden
there were no walls
just a fence line
that yielded to the embrace
of the bower
and where the moonflower bloomed
at the midnight hour.
a dawn bird
In résponse to RDP – Tuesday : Line
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A Shared Space 
In the midnight hour, echoes of a song here telling of breaking down walls, how delightful.
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Ah! a blast from the past!
Yes was thinking about walls … and the vulnerability of living without them
And, I love moonflowers become what they are, at the darkest hour.
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Yes, well said 😀
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🙂
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