She had crossed the bridge
Many a time: Back and forth
From school; to work and
Back, bored almost brainless.
Mostly it was hectic. From
Time to time it was eerie empty.
Especially at night when she
Crossed it with Quinn after
The cinema or the bar or both.
It was there, that her da had
Told her of the cancer that
Crept in his lungs. The look
In his face, the baritone words
Erupting from his mouth, the
Yellow tinge in features marking
Him out for death’s touch. Today
She stood by the bridge wall half
Way across looking down at the
Water. People passed behind,
Unaware she was there, blinded
By their own destination to be
Elsewhere. The water was dull
And ***** not as she’d imagined
In her pensive thoughts. Not clear
As glass. Not clean. Yet she knew
It well. Knew the waters. Today it
Spoke in water talk. Come in it
Seemed to say. Jump in. The water’s
Lovely. Death’s here too like a
Comforting groom. To end it all.
The loss of Da, the melancholic
Madness of Mother, her own child’s
Demise before her eyes, Quinn’s
Deception, his mistress’s conception.
All that was too much; too soon.
The bridge would suffice. The
Cold water a baptism of death.
Always wear clean underclothes,
Her mother advised; you never
Know what accident might happen,
And who may find you, she‘d said.
Clean and presentable even when dead.
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
She had crossed the bridge
Many a time: Back and forth
From school; to work and
Back, bored almost brainless.
Mostly it was hectic. From
Time to time it was eerie empty.
Especially at night when she
Crossed it with Quinn after
The cinema or the bar or both.
It was there, that her da had
Told her of the cancer that
Crept in his lungs. The look
In his face, the baritone words
Erupting from his mouth, the
Yellow tinge in features marking
Him out for death’s touch. Today
She stood by the bridge wall half
Way across looking down at the
Water. People passed behind,
Unaware she was there, blinded
By their own destination to be
Elsewhere. The water was dull
And ***** not as she’d imagined
In her pensive thoughts. Not clear
As glass. Not clean. Yet she knew
It well. Knew the waters. Today it
Spoke in water talk. Come in it
Seemed to say. Jump in. The water’s
Lovely. Death’s here too like a
Comforting groom. To end it all.
The loss of Da, the melancholic
Madness of Mother, her own child’s
Demise before her eyes, Quinn’s
Deception, his mistress’s conception.
All that was too much; too soon.
The bridge would suffice. The
Cold water a baptism of death.
Always wear clean underclothes,
Her mother advised; you never
Know what accident might happen,
And who may find you, she‘d said.
Clean and presentable even when dead.
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