(poem inspired by this image of Sapa, Vietnam bridge found on Pinterest)
My Beloved,
the rippled calluses on
my feet trek
the grains of this plank,
rove - up, over, a full moon-month
and on to the next.
The creaking is a
lullaby, a whispered kiss,
a moment caught.
Each familiar
step,
unexpected.
When the fog rolls back,
you stretch behind me,
stretch before me.
Your breath regards me,
mingles, melts through
the draught.
Below us, white waters
buck, rage, race,
flushed
golden, crowns of sunlight
come and gone.
My Beloved,
you stretch
between the rocky clefts,
befores and afters -
the spirals of history,
the Scyllas, Charybdes,
aircraftcloudwatching,
binary basilicas.
From this line between
the swirling sky,
I am rooted.
-for Ian, my love
3 comments:
enjoyed the theme... and the use of the rope bridge...
nice...enjoyed this one much...so many little delights along the way of it....the lullaby of the bridge creek...the rooted close...lovely....
I enjoyed your poem, but I know I wouldn't enjoy walking across that bridge!
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