{"id":133279,"date":"2023-09-02T16:33:04","date_gmt":"2023-09-02T20:33:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=133279"},"modified":"2023-09-02T16:33:04","modified_gmt":"2023-09-02T20:33:04","slug":"hour-8-a-night-in-madrid","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2023\/09\/hour-8-a-night-in-madrid\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour #8: A Night In Madrid"},"content":{"rendered":"<pre>Open the window to a world dressed up.\r\nI'll wear my skirt and my hair up high\r\nYou'll wear cologne and a red bow tie.\r\n\r\nWe friends gather in the streets tonight, \r\njust we were last night,\r\njust as we'll be tomorrow. \r\n\r\nKisses to our house-mothers\r\nsitting on apartment stoops while scheming,\r\ncalling out, and whistling while sipping sangria.\r\n\r\nWe end up in canoes at Parque Retiro with stars above\r\nreflected all around us as waves make them dance.\r\nWhere does the night sky end and water begin?\r\n\r\nToo fast to find out, we meet up with Anne and Jorge, \r\nwho else came with Nan that evening? Names fade, yet \r\nmagic stays from nights of steady beats on Madrid's streets.\r\n\r\nA sip of wine, a flamenco dance on stage, conversations on\r\nthat bench just outside of the church where many will pray\r\nrosaries tomorrow but will lean out windows and sing tonight.\r\n\r\nAll the world is out tonight as you walk me home. \r\nMy house-father has dozed off, so we sip cocoa with the others.\r\nStories of simple pleasures do not excite but rather delight us.\r\n\r\nMy world was somehow slower, even in the crowded city.\r\nDare I return now, will life be as sweet\r\nforty years after the neon, moonlit, musical streets?\r\n\r\nOpen the window to a world dressed up.\r\nI'll wear my skirt and my hair up high\r\nYou'll wear cologne and a red bow tie.\r\n\r\n<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Open the window to a world dressed up. I&#8217;ll wear my skirt and my hair up high You&#8217;ll wear cologne and a red bow tie. We friends gather in the streets tonight, just we were last night, just as we&#8217;ll be tomorrow. Kisses to our&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-133279","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133279","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1019"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=133279"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133279\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":133579,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133279\/revisions\/133579"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=133279"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=133279"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=133279"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}