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Jan 2020
A dulling gold plain
split into many pieces
by the high tide water.
The water flows steadily,
a rather small motion
that breaks the illusion
of stagnant salty ice.

the concrete bridge
stands like a gravestone;
marking the time of old,
and barely intact
to see the present hour.

The unfiltered sun
shines ever so brightly,
as if a golden amber blanket
is lain caringly upon
this dead winter marsh,

giving it light,
giving it life.
that bridge is kinda old... I honestly hope it doesn't collapse soon I think it says 1919 on it. I never noticed how beautiful this marsh was until today.
Ayn
Written by
Ayn  20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)   
  110
     ---, Scorpio, Grey, David J, Stratus and 1 other
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