The bridge is out
Submerged in water
Ropes visible above
Attached to heavy posts
Drunk with the weight
Of the river wide
On its tiptoes
Tilting the world
Hazy and forbidden
Even in summer
When the rains come
That slow buildup
The quick switch
Dropping the hammer
Swift and solid
A wall of water
Sanguinely sits
Waiting to drain
But it continues to rain
Until morning.
Sam
Love the imagery in this poem!
Thank you so much, Miranda!