Between Worlds
On the middle of a bridge, I forget
where I was going, where I came from.
The bridge is burning
beautifully
on both ends.
The cloudless sky calls to me
through the voice of a bird,
its beak open wide as the body
of a fish being gutted.
The water below looks so coolly refreshing.
A fish leaps, plunks.
The water rushes to cover this up
like a secret.
The splash reaches the tip of my tongue
like a name I can’t quite remember.
I forget whether I belong
to the sea or to the sky.
4 thoughts on "Between Worlds"
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I love how you use the bird as a bridge between “cloudless sky” and the water teeming with fish afraid to be “gutted.” Also, I don’t often come across the word “plunked,” so I was happy to see you use it here. Well done!
*plunks
Thanks Katrina. I wrote a book called Plunk. Maybe you’d like it.
That’s amazing! I’ll have to look into it!