Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Lonely Beneath the Bridge

Walking through the garden.
The flowers smell so sweet,
The rain was kind to them
Over the summer.

Strolling across the bridge,
A voice howled underneath.
"Come play with me."
"Are you mad?"
I said. "Are you
Lost in the drift?"

It was lonely,
It was frightened,
And it was below the bridge.

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