The bridge...of sighs, and being wise

February 12, 2013

There’s no one on the bridge now. The turgid, frigid water may be slow; But still, I watch it flow. I can remember how The earlier water felt How, before the melt The water iced my heart And tore it apart. Now the old days are gone . The time has flown. The bridge is empty: the water beneath No longer chills: My heart now is in an armoured sheath. I donn’t plumb the depths… or climb the hills.

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