Water Under The Bridge
Right foot first, soles kissing each paving stone,
I didn’t watch the light on the water below, anticipating your face. I crossed the crossing place.
The bridge –
That led to you,
for our first date. Joy. Fate. Flow.
I was early. You were late, but cool
As a cucumber in a fridge,
You didn’t make excuses, played the fool,
And your face like a shimmering
Jewel, that promised promise,
Blinded me from everything. From the sharp and cruel
Edges that we measure regret with.
How many times did I walk that same path
That Summer, in search of treasure? The humming river traffic and my
Heart a murmuration of startling emotions
That swelled and contracted as I passed over to
You, the prize, on the other side.
And now, I stand on the same bridge –
Alone. The land of the unloved is the land of the unliving.
I still have that message on my phone
I can’t delete and my feet set in concrete
Unable to pass over,
The dark and murky water, cast down with shadows,
The muddy shallow banks
Lapping with the sounds of my heart sinking
Unable to reach the other side
As the water is too wide.