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Just down the gravel road,
A mile from my house—
Jump across the deepest ditch
And climb over the barbwire fence.
A bridge comes into view
Made completely of roots.
My eyelids under such tremendous pressure—
Salty tears finally leaking through,
When I sit upon the ancient bridge—
To weep.
The roots – bare and naked—
Skinned from my feet
Walking upon them.
Balancing my way across a
Nile of a
creek—
To sink in muddy banks.
My beloved bridge disappears—
Sinks into the Sands of Sorrow
But it awaits me still—
Under smooth honey stones.
I long for this bridge,
I miss its water—
Trickling quietly beneath me.
My tears adding to the stream—
Rising—
Rising—
Until it sweeps me away.
They gather around—
My childhood friends.
The luna moth with folded wings,
The blood red fox,
But mostly the moon.
As the naked branches attempt to hide it.
The rain finally falling...
Falling...
Filling the bowl that is the Earth—
In which these roots do drink—
Finally glazing its gray branches.
They are helpless to trap the sun.
On a dry night—
These branches evil—
Creeping their way across my vision
Of the moon.
Cracking with thirst
And tired from growth.
I faintly remember my beloved bridge.
So many years have I fed its neglect—
But I come to visit again
And realize it is my pain that forces me
To miss places such as this.
That's why I sit here—
Upon the bridge I built with my brother—
Perhaps he will visit too.
Jake Finley is an eleventh-grade
student a Maryville High School. |
