Our Bridge

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  • Love

    Our Bridge

    This bridge we have walked before.
    Milky August moon fuzzing down.
    A watery white welt across the blue black heavens.

    Water pushing, gathering forward momentum, then breaking on the dead bark bare trees before falling to the black pool below, rolling underneath - beneath our feet.

    We are absorbing the night water's energy.

    Does it surge and simmer because of us?

    Alone, on the black path.
    Hands, palms pressed flat together, we begin to slide, sink and swim.

    The blackened oak, veining toward the sky above.

    We are immersed in your alluvial soil.

    Love, listen.
    Love, touch.
    Love, let me taste you
    Drink you.
    Let your salty ocean embrace me.

    I cannot drink enough of your waters.

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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    CLMatyskela’s Poems (21)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Empty 7
    Departure 1
    Morning 0
    Breathe 1
    Invaded by Ants 1
    Askance 1
    2 Friend in Need 0
    Growing Pains 1
    Alone 0
    untitled 0
    Silence 0
    Sanity 0
    Poem to and in the style of Sylvia Plath 1
    Learning the meaning of Why 0
    Addiction 1
    Efshet 0
    Our Bridge 0
    Ode To A Pothole on 22nd Street 2
    Submerged Again 1
    Intimacy 0
    Waiting Room In a Maternity Ward 0