Today Not a Day of Voices

Soft blades of grass

Pillowed beneath my head

My hand shields the sun from my eyes

Rays soak through the cracks between my fingers

Making me squint just a bit

No breeze to be found

The thick heat, frozen in the air

Unable to move, it waits and stares

It has all the time in the world

To sit and keep me company

It’s quiet, almost too quiet

Even if I were miles away

The sound of stillness would be the same

At least it would be on this day, today

I remain silent

Even if I wanted to speak

My lips would move

But no sound would emerge

Because today is not a day of voices, not today

There will be plenty of tomorrows to be heard

Instead I float, suspended in time

Living in just this moment while it lasts

 
*Originally posted August 15, 2015

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Pamplona

It’s after midnight

Pamplona greets us with open arms

Streets typically empty and silent

Not tonight

Celebration’s prelude of tomorrow’s chase

 

Sangria overflowing

I’m floating inside my glass

Swimming not drowning

But drowning in this glass may not be such an unpleasant thought

At least, just for tonight

 

Handshakes, hugs, more filled glasses

A feeling this will never end

Smiles from street to street

Greet to greet

I wonder if the bulls also have smiles on their faces right now

 

Dawn will awake

Sometime soon or off in the distance

I can’t tell

But at that time

I will see if my courage is there

To run through the streets

The chase of a lifetime

Or if not

Watch from the sidelines

With regret nipping at my heels

 

Originally posted August 1, 2015

Puddles of Lost Voices

Falling rain

Each drop free falling faster than the next

The sound of a million needles splashing on my skin

Tiny droplets reverb in the background

A lonely melody emerges

Puddles of lost voices begin to sing

Their faint voices, distant

Burrow deep inside and stay with me

And I’m certain

There will never be a storm like this again

But I will always hear this song

Whenever it rains

Originally posted August 22, 2015

The Tethered Morning Sun

Blades of grass follow the morning sun

It floats as if tethered by a balloon string, held back from flying away

Silhouettes pass against the fiery yellow and orange, one by one

And out of the corner of my eye, I catch my shadow reach out, yearning

But like the morning sun, he is tethered and remains

Like blades of grass, with eyes that can only follow

Left only to dream of what might have been

Originally posted October 19, 2015