Bridge.


Amazing poetry shared by a talented writer.

Lucy's Works and Co

the shadows

cover the sands,

each finger

in my hand

threads liana

coast blue

the bodies of ephemeral

god’s eye;

my father holds my hand

by the rope of the bridge; it, in a sense,

is remote to me as a child;

in memory, it architects

a mist in mind,

orange light

flowers,

liana

white liana and fingers

threading my own

centered against the yellowed sun

and the light blue of the last sea

I saw;

white lines

fallen by the shoreline

echoed like a near dream

with father on the bridge

half rocks, ebon,

quietly that lay

and hatch onto

a summer sea.

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I wrote this specifically for the dverse ninth year anniversary.

The prompt is this: “I want you to capture a moment in your verse. Clearly describe to us what is in that moment. Paint a picture for us with…

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