A craftwork of metal and wire arisen out of a mist.
Something fashioned by a fantasist
appealing to our journey, future-made
above the clouds with hope arrayed.
A box across the creek bed, made of wood.
The romantic moonlight lit and understood
its dirt road point of interception.
It hosts a memory of affection.
The stone one with its aqueduct eyes,
peering just above the waterline.
A docile stream that’s hardly flowing,
yet moves a slight, its life sea-going.
The poet’s words are diffident,
but stand in verse, the infinite
transitions to a place of rest
spanning over rocks and clefts.
Horizons stand, all that remains
beyond the beckoning segue plains.
Beautiful thought process in my mind’s eye as I traveled across those bridges.
Thank you for your thoughts, it helps to understand how readers perceive things.
“The stone one with its aqueduct eyes” brings to my mind the Possum Kingdom stone arch bridge spanning the Brazos River.