Crossing a Rappahannock River Bridge
            -In memory of the bridge jumpers

I open myself like a clock
                              Maker    
and become a bridge jumper     
                              of lost lives, I am
hurtling over the edge:  a wingless     
                              gatherer
gull swallowing the soaked air.      
                              of scorned lovers.
Blue roses fill my aching lungs.     
                              Outstretched,
My spindly legs fold, collapse     
                              they fly:
against a verdigris floor
                              hungry, lost birds:
so alluring I imagine
                              Warblers of woven songs.
falling every time I cross this bridge.
                              Falcons,
The glare on the surface calls.
                              tone deaf, wearied.
I leap through cerulean
                              Gulls ablaze, fiery.
haze that swirls, web-taut,
                              My tides swallow flames,
around my waist, my heart
                              rocking.
a jubilant ruby, my arms
                              Bruja, bruja,
witch blossoms encircling
                              the spells, one by one, die out.
this vast riverbed.  Tuck away
                              Earth angel, let go.
the desire, I tell myself,
                              Fall into my currents, drifting
but the urge to fall, the urge
                              just barely now.
to live like a cat back
                              Live again
from the dead, the urge
                              to feed on silken fish,
to feel the mighty stomach
                              to feed on the bounty,
of water swells in me.
                              to swim again.
Here, I am at home.     
                              Belong here
I am at home in the yawl
                              in this curative grave,
of a meandering river,     
                              my dreamer,
in the comforting wetness,     
                              my watery child.

Published in River Country (San Francisco Bay Press, 2008) and The Clinch Mountain Review
Reprint rights granted by the author