The Bridge
The Bridge

The Bridge

I did not know how close I was to the sky
Until I stood on a bridge one night
With one hand on my chest
And the other on the moon’s surface
The moon’s bright lonely surface
Standing there,
I connected the muddy waters under the bridge
With the smoky restless clouds up high

The sadness of the moon
Had given me courage to stretch my arm!

June 5, 2000