A View from the Bridge

A View from the Bridge
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From the bridge I see a woman in a red coat,
walking in drizzle along the narrow trail?at river’s edge-
a tangled tapestry of blackberry vines, rock and sand.
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Her brown dog jumps in and out of the water,
where bands of fog nestle at the place?mountains and river meet.
And, where the only sound is a steady white water rush.
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From the bridge, I watch this solitary figure
and I see me.
I have been her.
She is me.
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From the bridge, I look into a mirror.
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This entry was posted in NATURE: PUBLISHED, PEOPLE: PUBLISHED, POETRY.

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