I am wondering if I can hang on to this lance.
I made this myself from finest woods, even I
am not ashamed to admit I am proud of my effort.
It is not the job I wanted, only my love of the horse
lead me here, I had not known, I had not trained
for this endeavor. But the matador has my strings
if I can be said to have any- only a metaphor-
I assure you. I am resigned to knowing this is
my last fight to prove my courage, for I have heard
rumors they have outlawed this bloody, beautiful
sport. And, yes, I know the matador is the hero, the
one they all come to see, he is indeed stunning, yet
I must face the bull first and take the power of his
neck from him; I don't want the horse to get hurt,
never knowing if the bull will charge...Picador.
This is beautiful Tara. I would never have known about the plight or story of the Picador. Thank you for introducing me to this.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ali! It is very much about the Picador. But, of course, it's an allusion to things I was feeling, as well.
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