The bridges you’ve burned smolder behind me
Staining the innocence of a bright new day
Through the thick, dark smoke of brokenness
I see the outline of new bridges [to jump from, cross over or burn to ashes]
Shimmering and swaying in the distance,
Whispering promises that make a mockery of my fears
Looking over my shoulder one last time
I see the bridge where you faltered
Refusing to cross over onto solid ground with me
Within the blink of an eye it vanishes
A mere specter in the realm of what could have been
Before you succumbed to your predilection
For gasoline and matches

© 2018 MW 🙏

Cheers to OLN at dVerse and our gracious host, Grace.

26 thoughts on “Bridges

  1. I believe you have contributed here to a mysterious genre of my Portuguese heritage. Saudade is not easily translated into English, but it has to do with a feeling of nostalgia for something that may or may not have happened. The poem addresses the mystery most beautifully. My sincere compliments.


  2. I am so pleased you dropped by again MW.. And your words have been missed.. Argh, many of us have held those matches my friend, as we step over and burn the bridge behind us.
    A thought provoking poem that spoke to me on many different levels of thought as I know what it is to cast away spent matches..

    Sending Love and Blessings as you go forward leaving fear behind.. ❤ ❤ ❤

    Liked by 1 person

Your thoughts are a blessing to read and receive. 🙏🏼

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