This road bridge no longer has traffic
It used to be the gate to my city
The line between one reality and another
Water passing narrowly through the pale rocks below
fleeing toward the sea where winter sun crosses
It's speaking to me echoing off the asphalt
not a dreary day but the warm blue late morning
The quiet roar of the water and their rapids
Telling me to listen to the birds of the season
as if their song would be advice to save my life
But it was just to get my mind off the highway
where vehicles compete for a piece of the road
Looking off the guard rail down to the water
Flowing away on it's own race ahead
carving out the land long before we did
be grateful for your time on earth
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