beyond, where the air is brazen,
bold and clamoring
until the silence fills it.
Here, where darkness goes over,
bridging
to yesterday.
There are places to weep
and paths to wander;
small cold graves to keep
watch over.
Erecting day
into a bridge to walk upon,
I shall not drown again,
hung high over,
walking high over water, from desert to desert,
turning time into distance,
walking between.
© 2010 Charlotte Merrill Jensen
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