A Lonely Bridge

So many bricks 

lay all alone. 

Covered in mortar,

cold sullen stone. 

Dreams of the sun

while covered in muck. 

With no eyes to see

and their bodies stuck. 

Frozen winter nights

chill to death's first bone.

Rocks bleed water

and weep alone. 

Every oven opportune

was warm and grand

but a cold shattered through;

pelted them to sand.

Lone howling nature

but no ears to hear.

Stones moan and groan

wanting someone near.

Yet in the moonlight,

overlooking the ridge,

each stone is alone

as part of the bridge. 

They arch in a wonder

they never will see.

Lonely they may feel,

but they will never be.





Thanks to Meg, Craig, and Barbara for this Saturday's inspiration of "Being Alone."