Thursday, October 6, 2011


suspended in the air.

A Bridge Collapses

I waited on the cobble stone bridge
like you asked,
but you never came.

I stood there
alone in the blistering cold
and stared, imagining spring
flowers blooming from the ice,
but you never came.

I walked on
a nearby park path
every few days, 
only hoping you'd be here,
but you never came.

Today,
I stopped.
Like taking a skipping
record off a turntable,
I'd quit. Sitting
uneasy on a concrete
park bench,
I stretched my mind
into a spiraling mental tunnel.
I sat in my conscious world,
thoughtful and hopeful,
but you never came. 

Today,
I'll pass that bridge
for the last time.
Yellow leaves
scatter the ground,
instead of veering
for another gaze, I shuffle
the lying leaves. 
I march forward,
but you never come.

Like a child fearfully
gripping a mother's hand
at the top of roller coaster,
I keep thinking,
"Here we go!”
I should've walked
long ago and let that bridge
fall.