September #13

Bixby Canyon Inspiration

I was walking along the bridge
when on the bridge I saw
your feet pushing down the bridge's
red bricks, the bridge that shook
and sighed as you walked on, my bridge,
the bridge where we'd kissed and loved.
We'd met on this bridge before
though not that long before - this bridge
used to mean so much, a span, a bridge
between us, but you broke our bridge
before and as I see you on our bridge
I fall, because I'm walking on no bridge at all
after all - yet here we are bridged again
no longer meeting, walking both ways down our bridge,
our backs say goodbye as we've said goodbye on our bridge, to our bridge, my bridge,
the bridge you've said goodbye to before,
the bridge that has always only ever been mine.