the bridge across is cracked and worn
the bridge across is bent
her grit teeth may form solid slabs
but the bridge across is spent
the pale spine of wood retreats
curved in upon itself
left prone, it waits for tender steps
to trace its rocky shelf
the day’s light now has faded
starlight falls upon the wood
the chill of dark descends and rests
night’s garment’s inky hood
the bridge across is bleached like bone
in moonlight’s pale wake
she sets her foot upon the bridge
her grasping fingers quake