Walnut Street Bridge
Under a great sweeping cape,
whipped by the bitter wind.
Under the dark gray hood
that hides half my face.
I stand on the creaking bridge
and look down at the drama
of huge ice chunks shifting
on the river.
A desolate landscape...
I could fall through the fragments
cuts my flesh while crashing
through the sharp edges of ice
and drown in that cold dark place
swallowed completely-
unable to surface
for even one last glimpse of the sky...
Instead I giggle.
1999 Radiance Magazine
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