Bridged Time

child on bridge SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Little feet

Crossing stones

Little hand

Holding phone.

Do his toes

Marching on

Note how time

Isn’t gone?

Does his heart

Understand

How the stream

Breathes calm

Underneath

His young mind,

Singing songs

Burbling home?

 

 

For Nancy Merrill’s Photo a Week Challenge: Bridges

 

Bayou Bridged

City Park (New Orleans) - Wikipedia
City Park, New Orleans (Photo: en.wikipedia.org)

 

They always met in the park. There were spirits there, too, of course: The drowned. The lost. The desperate. The abandoned young. However, these tended to be the milder spirits, mellowed by moss and rain and the freedom to roam on whispery winds. House spirits were harsher, meaner, and angrier. They carried histories of rape and whippings and the smaller everyday murders that chip at a soul until there is nothing left but agony and bitterness.

It was better to meet in the park, on a bridge between this world and the other, chiseled by masons, anchored by time.

She lowered herself onto the top stair and waited. She’d hear him come, but she would not turn. He did not bear to be looked upon.

“I will take him across,” he’d said when they last met. And he had. It was a gentle death.

Now it was her mother’s time.

 

 

For What Pegman Saw

Blue Lass

blue evening SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Does she yet

In the tower

Await

For the draw

Of a knight

In the simmering

Light,

Or do blue

Evenings

Now pass

Inked by

No pining

Lass?

 

 

For the Lens-Artists photo challenge: Blue

 

Musical Muse

saxophone bridge SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

They emerge deep at night

To play tunes out of sight

Giants, trolls, hoards of sprites

To the bridge they alight

Where they’ll sing till first light.

If you listen, you might

Catch a tune fleeting bright

Ode to sax stuck upright.

 

 

For the A Photo A Week Challenge: Music