safe from harm, at long last

a fighter bull thunders past the wordless black marquee
in slow motion-
ancient wounds gaping heavenward
horns bent, or crooked if you're a pessimist
breathing without exhaling
as if oxygen times time equals momentum
for a moment it looks like the beast isn't moving-
suspended in space somewhere above the stage
hoisted by fatigue, or fulfillment if you're an optimist
it is a long moment
the sound thunders past the bull and onto the crowd
in slow motion-
safe from harm, at long last...