Strong Bridge

One evening, I went walking.
I remember that it was a night filled with mist and blooms of light from hundreds of city lanterns.
Walking along a strong bridge, dipped in fog, blurred images passed my eyes as fractured language swirled through the river's damp in a sorrowful song..
"By and by I shall meet you by and by my dear,
where gusts of silver-hued river spiral down, down, down,
By and By I shall meet you, bye and bye..."
Then the faces of the little girls danced before me,
just as it was many years before.
"Catch me!, Catch me!"
we're birds flying,
dancing
and as our feet touch down
we only softly graze the swords that
lay in crosses.
"By and by I shall meet you bye and bye little one,
where clouded waves thunder
the mist rises from the foam
and bony fingers from the Cypress
field the solemn touch,
By and by I shall meet you by and by."
And then there was a little form,
perched comfortably on the railing,
a pot-bellied barn owl purred to me,
"Hey there girl, don't you know
that those men there,
will breeeaaaakkkkk
yeeerrrrrrrr
boooooooooooones!!!!!"
Blink
Damn it.
and from below,
"By and by I will meet you by and by my dear,
at the tree felled by the rainstorm
where we crossed
with shaky hearts
we held hands, do you remember?
by and by I shall meet you by and by.."
As my feet slumbered on
I bent forward and
with dull force
picked and gathered the
bruised petals from the soaked concrete.
I grow weary that there are new ways to grieve.