Thursday, October 13, 2016


I am not the soul that spits in pain or danger's face.
I'm the trembling fast heart beat of a small bird, that slips through your fingers in flight for fear of an unbearable fate.
It's not death that frightens, but disregard and disdainful abandonment.
How I admire the swarthy tough soul that challenges a fight.
But, it's only curious observation, since I can't be anything but me.


  1. Beautiful!!
    Accurate words for deep and familiar feelings I have also had.
    Thanks for sharing them!

    1. Carlos, how lovely to find your comment here. When I began this blog lots of people were blogging and bloggers and others commented frequently on each others' sites. Now, it's a bit rare and I blog photos and thoughts as if they were in a personal journal that I'm willing to share. It was a really nice surprise to connect with these same feelings here!