Water Under The Bridge

Right foot first, soles kissing each paving stone,

I didn’t watch the light on the water below, anticipating your face. I crossed the crossing place.

The bridge –

That led to you,

 for our first date. Joy. Fate. Flow.

I was early. You were late, but cool

As a cucumber in a fridge,

You didn’t make excuses, played the fool,

 And your face like a shimmering

Jewel, that promised promise,

Blinded me from everything. From the sharp and cruel

Edges that we measure regret with.

How many times did I walk that same path

That Summer, in search of treasure? The humming river traffic and my

Heart a murmuration of startling emotions

That swelled and contracted as I passed over to

 You, the prize, on the other side.

And now, I stand on the same bridge –

 Alone. The land of the unloved is the land of the unliving.

I still have that message on my phone

I can’t delete and my feet set in concrete

Unable to pass over,

The dark and murky water, cast down with shadows,

The muddy shallow banks

Lapping with the sounds of my heart sinking

Unable to reach the other side

As the water is too wide.