EVERYONE'S BEEN GONE
I took my lunch today to the
little yellow bridge at the old
Water-Pike Canal. It was so
boring I couldn't even eat. I
realized, while standing there,
that the whole world has fallen
apart, and all I walk upon now
are the chinks and cuttings of
what may have fallen through.
I have memories, I suppose,
like diamonds or ice. Glinting
or shining, and then - how do
they say it? - gone in a New
York minute. For that I put on
my gloves before I touch your
face. The water underneath this
bridge is running. My heart still
beats. Traffic a mile away is yet
humming. Do I over-reach?
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