Pic and a Word #284: Vulnerable

“The vulnerable won’t help” is one of those pot idea lines that have stuck. What do you mean you don’t have these?

Since I have already written a poem with this title once I will repeat it this time. It was short and not so sweet and posted in April 2018 for NaPoWriMo together with a list of various layers of my identity.

The vulnerable won’t help

Victims need not blame
swimmers cannot ski
the blind refuse to talk
the living are dead yet.

Happy are those who choose it
the strong are waiting to break
multitudes suck you in
the vulnerable won’t help.

In photos, five from last October. I have gathered so many photos from that month that I wish to show you! That’s why, for the first time, there will be two October 2020 posts for my Calendar series.

This is not it yet. These five weren’t among selected and were crying to be posted. So vulnerable of them.

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  Should the surface rise, and we know it will, flamingos will have trouble reaching their shrimps. Very vulnerable.

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  This egret has come to town. People of Orbetello are used to it. It will be okay.

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  Many geckos around here. Vulnerable only if bestia is in his hunting mode.

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  This horse had a wound in his leg but it was taken care of and she was okay. (I think she?)

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  On this kind of surface, bestia feels extremely vulnerable. But he passed it like a champ.

In response to Patrick Jennings’ Pic and a Word Challenge #284: Vulnerable

This day in my blogging history

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  2016: Get my Swan costume ready. —Last words of Anna Pavlova

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  2017: Liz and Thursday Doors in Civita di Bagnoregio

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  2018: Canadian Indiana Jones in Orvieto and Bolsena

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