Everytime I pass the street, my eyes linger on the pedestrian bridge.

It's fairly new.

And wouldn't be there if it wasn't for what happened at the corner.

A woman and her baby, or maybe she was looking after this baby, they were standing, waiting to cross, when a car took a turn too sharp, too fast, too whatever, and the baby was gone.

For months, maybe years after, the street lamp was covered in stuffed animals.

But now there's nothing but my memory of a baby I never met and a bridge I'm glad exists.

I wonder what her name was.

I wonder if anyone thinks about her when they cross the bridge.

Sometimes I catch myself
remembering the smile you had
when my fingers traced the lines of your face
your neck
shoulders
hips.
The way the sun came in through your windows.
The noise you'd make when I'd nudge you.
A reminder to wake up,
to hold me closer.
The warmth of your thin comfter
the only thing protecting us
from the day.

I want to pick up the phone
but I can't call you.
I won't ever hear your laugh.
Sometimes I worry
that my memories won't last.
I want to call and say:
Do you remember when we kissed for real.
When you looked at me and said
"I've been waiting for this
for a long time"

Now everything that existed
is just mine.
And no one will ever remember
how we shivered
under your thin comforter
hidden from the day.

It flies amongst the stars.
Flashes for a moment.
Despite the left scars.
Holds a place close, yet far.

It carries the fallen.
From mistaken paths.
To reaches impossible.
And develops new plans.

It creates new countries.
Raises dead soldiers.
Stamps unsung heroes.
With a feeling of free.

Hear its silent sound.
Open up your eyes.
Place it in your heart.
Elevate from the ground.

It helps us climb.
Better than rope.
Do you see its shape?
It is hope.

Sun kissed,
The warm wind skating on my skin
One hand on the shoulder,

The other one holding on tight to this moment.

A day for the books,
In mine nonetheless

Our past months rumbling in my helmet,
Taking me on this ride to where we are heading.

I close my eyes to see

Right here, I am free.

There's this ache
in my heart
that I can only describe
as the first cold wind
on the last days
of summer.
Or like when you were a kid
and your parents packed you in a van.
Your house fading in the distance as you drove away from
everything
you ever loved.
The squeaks and creaks of familiar floorboards,
the smell of  your room
becoming fuzzy details
of your dreams.

There's this ache in my heart
that reminds me of
guts twisting up
right before they tell you
they've got some bad news.
Your toes curling in your shoes,
bracing yourself
for a punch
you never physically
receive.
Or the way your voice strains
when youre trying to get
a message
across
the pouring rain.
The cold soaking
through your clothes,
sticking to your soul.
Creating goosebumps
on the flesh that covers
the bone.
And you never really
ever
get quite dry.

There's this ache in my heart
that reminds me,
that reminds me.
That I could only describe
as just
that ache.