The bridge…of sighs, and being wise

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.

des peres bridge 090213 stl photo DSC00671.jpg


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