Wednesday, May 28, 2014


I stumbled and scraped my knee. In a brief moment of vulnerability and need, I called out, but I did not use my voice. And so I was quietly surprised when no hand reached out to stable me. No warmth of human touch. It made me stumble twice, really. How silly. Fortunately it is just a scratch. Small and likely more self perceived as something at all significant. But a fresh sting may blossom bright in a quick moment before it fades imperceptibly back into the shroud of faded memory. Here I blush... and put band aids on. Chin up. Only one person saw me fall. Time, now, to convince myself I don't care. How silly, this. I still have not spoken, have I?