The Bridge

From that bridge
where we stood and snapped
our smiling faces
marvelled at the purity
of soft sounding water
envied the perfection
of Mary's garden

One rejecting humane being
leapt and swung his life in the air
only to be caught
by the sweet arms of rationality
hauled back
like an escapee
he was shut away
imprisoned by concern

Mary bringing out last breakfast
shakes her head
apologising
tops up cold tea
it's in winter she
feels sorry for them
Ice cold the water then

I sip the tea
to ward off the chill