Bridge

The plan was to watch the sky darken
in silence.

Yet to my left are schoolboys shouting,
pelting rocks into the bay.

This was the exact scene
of a dream I once had.
I was wearing a coat of light
on my feet and spoke loudly.

I can’t remember of what.
Those particular sentences
perhaps being washed
into a future dream.

These past years I have learned nothing
but patience. About anything else,
I was probably wrong.

The boys’ arms are worn now
and they are not talking.

Only breathing.

They do not know they are a form of sacredness
in any story of any man
stranded between joy and sadness.

I just want them to remember
the sunlight.

How easy laughter
will always be.

How the world, sometimes,
decides to be just a little warmer.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s