Water under a bridge
Flows slowly, quietly
Until a storm rages
And the rain falls.
Then the bridge floods
And the river cries
And the wind blows
And we’re all wet
Nothing stays the same
The storm doesn’t care
We’re blown off the bridge
And float downstream
When the rain stops
Water under the bridge
Flows slowly, quietly
But we’re no longer there
I like your imagery, Paul. 'nothing stays the same; the storm doesn't care'.
ReplyDelete:-)
DeleteHow come LOVE is not mentioned anywhere
ReplyDeleteYou think I only write love poetry? eh?
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