Watching Jumpers

a bridge

Driving over the bridge

I thought about the edge,

the lives standing on a ledge

wondered til I felt a cringe

 

Thought of all the lives

a beautiful spring day

turning evening anyway

bicyclists, walkers, drives

 

This quiet sense of wonder

overcame my state of mind

only a silent recall, remind

it does put an end to a wander.

 

Driving by again I returned

this time to lights and fear

there was an apparent jumper

bicyclists, walkers, all turned

 

away from the activity, a quiet

like our lives ever hold merit.

 

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Crossing Twilight

Walking slow, a barren street ahead

around the quiet of still voices

tucked away with a sort of purpose,

he just strolls invisible

to the world around him,

using the stars to guide him

somewhere he just doesn’t know.

listen to the night sky,

the sweep in the evening breeze,

always when he reaches the pavement,

glances across the way,

sort of peering over the runway,

can imagine that she might be

walking on a similar avenue

with the same notions,

questions, thoughts, in idle pose,

perhaps there in the lights of the

crossing twilight,

they might meet somewhere in the middle,

always falling into just adequate.

He turns his head a way,

a smile in the ashen light of night,

the corner helps him disappear.

Minutes go by, and she walks

across the edge of the bridge,

glancing about, feeling

like there might have been a hymn

where they both recognize

how twilight might guide

their worlds to find one another

again.

In the Woods by the Bridge

We did gather our energy

Listened to these sages

Tell stories of skeletons

Bones and Mother Nature

While outside the arctic air

Provided a sweet backdrop

Paths that had already

Been trampled, cried upon

In a forest nearby a bridge

Where in crossing remained

Numbing to its reality

Out here we’ll play with energy

Ice and snow ancestral strategy

And when fear arrives outside

The gateway, we can return in spirit