My friend crumbled years ago and fell.

I am tired and cracking.

This part of the river is rebellious

unwilling to be someone’s back.

I too will soon crack like a twig.

Joining my sisters before me,

titanic sinking of concrete and steel.

We bounce across the bridges of our lives

not knowing the yoke which carries us.

The bridges of our existence

should not long be forgotten.

We will know nothing about the living

until we have crossed the final bridge.


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