When I Cross The Bridge
It would be the cool of the day;
The traders would’ve been back from stalls,
Farmers at their regular joint for the daily glass…
Children would be ready for their tale time.
I would have hung my favorite hat-
On the bar at the door’s back.
Yes! The fiery red stained hat of furs
That draws flies in their wake.
Earlier that day, I would’ve kissed my lady—
A whisper of sweet nothing embodied with love,
Combed through her grey hairs that cut in her face.
A promise to be what she gazed at upstairs.
With a free mind and a satisfied smile
Will I put on…
On my way through,
For when I cross the bridge,
I love to see a brighter life ahead.