A back-road bridge walked hundreds of thousands of times
back and forth and back to work, both ways, twice on Sundays.
He gathers stones the size of softballs having been a handful
stacked loaves of mercy and placed into carry over bags
weighed down, glance about, when no one was around.
No one wants to float, in an out, of a nowhere town
when no one sees or is around or could be found
confident to climb a crumble wall, walk the hand rail
heel to toe, step by step. No one waits to fall or fail.
He wonders, stops impatient, why a river below
rushes with plans and important places to go
leaves a breeze speaking in tongues with trees
in a language of forgiveness, no one will know.
Crossing for inspiration or bravery, or for show
he has started and stopped a dozen times before
jumps, one last time, has found a new way home.
These stones will please the red hat garden gnome.
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poetic2984).setAttribute('href','//poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?sitename=kuopenyung&item=home');document['poetimage'].height='45';document['poetimage'].src='//poetrypoem.com/photos/poets/kuopenyung-button.jpg';;WriteLayer('ptitle',null,'Stupidity and Calamity');WriteLayer('ppoem',null,'Stupidity and Calamity Madness can be contagious. Badness can be hardly reco<a href="//poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?poemnumber=1282852&displaypoem=t&sitename=kuopenyung&item=poetry" target="_top" style="text-decoration:none;"><font style="color: #18397C;font: 900 12px times;"> ... More</font></a>');WriteLayer('poetinfocus',null,'kuopenyung');WriteLayer('pdate',null,'2018-09-18')){kind=small}
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