By Tom H. Brooks 3


Sitting alone on a quiet bridge
surrounded by trees casting long shadows-
The wind howls its silent music
as the sun bathes the land in a quiet glow.

Dead leaves float down
in meaningless spirals
and clatter across the pavement;
pavement covered in footprints
that end in confusion.
The road ends here, yes?
Nothing but wilderness on the other side.
Nothing, I say, but a
Bridge to Nowhere.

A thought takes me and I rise,
slowly walking to the edge;
A crow squawks its warning from
the shadows in the trees.
I see a dark rift in the Earth.
A previously unseen ladder appears before me
descending into its depths.
A haunting canyon
veiled in autumn trees
and the sound of water
calls to me.

An unhealthy curiousity, some might say,
takes over, and against my better judgement,
I clamber down the ladder.
Silence is all around.
An ancient stairway
covered in forest undergrowth
reveals itself.
And so, I begin to walk.
Immediately, I lose my footing
and slide-   down
into its cold and heartless embrace.

I come to my senses
by a cool white river,
flowing undisturbed through this world
and into the next.
There are no birds here.
There is nothing,
nothing at all
but peace….but that counts too…
Eventually, against my will,
I force myself to struggle back up the hill
into this world again.

And it all leads me back to the
Bridge to Nowhere,
although, it seems,
this bridge does go somewhere after all…







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