Without a Bridge

Against reproach

rippling seawater reflecting pink evening sky

How much floats unsaid between these islands. Yet there are moments when it is all there, a deafening amen, edged in icy light. An incurable fool, I keep setting out on these little rafts made of so few words so poorly bound. I am no sooner afloat when I hear the wind laugh. But the only place for hesitation was that shore.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

3 thoughts on “Without a Bridge”

    1. Michael, it is always such music to see a fellow traveler on these waters. To witness the remarkably brave raft of someone else and be amazed with a combination of “You, too!?” and “I never thought to try it that way.” I often have this sense, reading you. Thank you for this. And for reading me, friend : ) May your day be rich with music.

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