Crossing The First Bridge
Clutch tight to your belongings
On the first bridge;
The wind will snatch them from you,
No matter how you hold.
You'll watch them float below.
Be careful where your feet fall
On the first bridge;
The boards will give beneath you
In splintery ankle holds.
Below, the water flows.
Watch out for other traffic
On the first bridge;
It will drive you to the edges
Where there is no rail to hold,
And then you'll know:
You are no longer crossing
The first bridge.
Karen
hehehe! Cute.
ReplyDeleteSounds safer to just wade or swim. I see this as a social commentary on our crumbling infrastructure.
ReplyDeleteGreat. Are there to be more poems for further bridges to be crossed? asks he hopefully.
ReplyDeleteLovely, and I'm still thinking!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Gnome!
ReplyDeleteMark - I think you end up swimming anyway! Bridges, roads, we all fall down.
Dave - thanks for making me smile with this comment. I'be actually been thinking of pjtting together a chapbook called The First Bridge, and yes, there are other bridges.
JoAnne - Thank you! That's a great compliment!
Oh I like this, Karen...thank you!
ReplyDelete