What if
there could be
a bridge built ‘tween you and me?
Our two worlds might, for one brief moment,
blend again, merge together, spin in a gently revolving dance,
joined in a dreamlike trance. But is there really any chance?
It’s been a long, lonely time; days, months, years drifting by.
While trees prepare for winter, beneath a stony, stark, grey sky,
I wrap our memories in paper, as your mind determines to die.
Broken conversations; snatches of speech
saying nothing; meaning less.
A river runs between us, those banks have run dry.
Yet, sometimes, a sparkle, the flicker of recognition.
I race across the bridge, tell the stones to hold fast,
delighting in your smile as you remember our past.