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.