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The WOODEN Bridge
Just a memory, a smell of cedar and dampness Dissipated by the wind, Gently warmed by Floridian gold. Silence otherwise, save for the crags and creeks Of the wooden bridge.
Oh how I do miss you.
Hillsborough river below, Charcoal and kerosene, Sizzling chicken and barbeque, Another summer burns warmer.
Just a memory, melancholy draped in willow, Stirred to fury by the wind, Scorched by the Floridian sun, The ringing in my ears, Save for our awkward silence, Of a bridge we both burned.
Oh how I do miss you.
--- แทนทไ
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Beautiful. You make me miss Florida...almost. "Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything." --Plato
https://youtu.be/CVwv9LZMah0 | |
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I like this. It mostly conjures up images of a wooden bridge, but also your own feeling of aging through clever metaphors. It's like a lamention of the creeping, undeniable symptoms of getting older, the 'wind', 'crags', 'creeks', 'ringing in my ears', 'dampness' etc. obviously referring to flatulence, wrinkles, arthritis, tinnitus and incontinence, respectively. Imagine if right now you lost everything you have, then got it back, how happy you'd be. | |
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I like the end about the bridges being burned. Good job!
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Yeah, some great metaphors here. I wonder if Imago deliberately used "creek" to refer to water with the sound of a bridge "creak" implied... Poetry should always imply more than the words used to write it... "Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything." --Plato
https://youtu.be/CVwv9LZMah0 | |
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