Day 24/30 in the City of Refuge Poem-a-Thon. This feels pretty unfinished, but I’m calling it okay for tonight.
Bridge
A wooden foot bridge spans the creek
that divides the park near my house
I raised my kids on this bridge
or so it seems when I stand on it now
recalling the span of their years
at the site of our former daily adventures
when adventures were daily
This bridge was a place to loiter and plan
to learn about ripples and gravity
as twigs and rocks dropped to the current
It was our place to wait and watch
the fish and crawdads and neighbors
and birds. Once on a cold day even
a great blue heron, a solitary event
the span of its wings startling in enormity
We always brought home stories
A bridge is not primarily for lingering
of course and the crossing seemed
an ever satisfying feat in a young life
a solid accomplishment
I was there on the other side
and now I’m here in a new place
with a clear line between the two.
~~
Nomadic Noesis 