The Bridge
Pausing for breath
I stand in the middle
Of a rickety old bridge
And see
The sun setting in front of me
And the moon rising behind.
I stare at my shadow
In the red
And my reflection
In silver.
The waters rise.
2.
I am now thirsty
And I sleep on my feet
Like a horse
Like a tired racehorse,
Sleeping to forget
My dry throat.
I dream
Of stars
Burning the sky
And falling
Like tear streaks.
3.
Somebody
Must have made
This old bridge
For others to cross
To the other side.
I think
I should jump now
And swim.
Perhaps then
I’d develop
Muscles on my arms.
Labels: poetry
2 Comments:
Very,very nice....loved every part of it...especially the way each part ended!
Loved the imagery...end of the poem took me by surprise though! :-)
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