I used to love bridges
standing in sun or rain
watching the waver of the dark
shadow the far distance

It is about a relationship
and the hidden past
much of my arrival months
are protected from me by
my birth mother Feirce
sensitve, much like I

I feel like the shadow of
the bridge Like the tension
of life and in death with a
wish to be released upon
the current and be free
of that shadow to travel
even as the dust we inextolably
must become to that far
distance

Thank You..

maybe three times in my days
and yet how striking the memory
water has always been the
source of some fear and of wonder
I still dont go out on the ice here
on Nipissing Lake call me odd
but I feel that the lake all lakes
have a spirit of sorts

I dont know where that line came
from..I try to write in a style that is
primitive enough and odd enough
to be my voice.. The only sifting
I remember is mother teaching
us how to bake, letting us use
the "sifter" a contraption that had
a screen that spun about in
the center of a tube like a damper
and on the outside a handle
with a green wooden knob
The flour in a cup or two went
in the top and one spun making
a fine mess

maybe that was the treasure really
not the physical remnants of ones
life

It made me smile now to recount
that

Thank You!