TRAGIC Poem: Bridge, by Patrick Trombly

She stands on the edge
of the cantilevered bridge
that connects the mountain roads
above the gorge.

On the other side,
we sit outside,
behind the café on
the belvedere,
not looking at our coffees,
not reading our papers,
not looking down at the river
at its low in August,
not trying to call out,
as she wouldn’t hear,
not waving, as the sun
shines at her from above
and behind us,
not trying to call the police,
as they’re too far away.
We already know
how it ends.
Only she knows why.

Some of the bridges
and mountainside roads
have higher railings
but they just climb
the railings and
leap from there.

Unknown's avatar

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

Leave a comment