The Bridge

rusting wire caught frozen
in the twisting dance
broken

a blanket of purest white
masked the approach in bitter
cold

broken glass and stones
strewn about like
diamonds

november's breath caresses
my skin with numbing
fingers

a single wall behind
concrete ceiling, stone pillars
antebellum grandeur

rumbling and shaking beneath
the weight of behemoths
running errands

knife blade of stone
pierces the skin of my back
bloodless

years later passing to see
my mansion of weeks lies beneath
the bridge