there is a Hebrew saying that means: the world is a narrow bridge;
the most important thing, not to be afraid. yet the night here begins
to forget itself, and there is fear in the darkness. you have your gloves on, thud-
squish, my heartbeat as heavy bag. i sink slowly, unrepentant.
the air stickens, and like good fighters, we each face the lightning alone.
a coolness rises off the river, wishing it were the sea. tideless, i
am drowning in the honeysuckled tears of a frustrated blue-green.
the march of dandelion clocks ticks onward, dug-in: six months, some-
odd days and twenty-seven seconds. slow mornings filigreed into chains
of summer hunger; wonder if when i reach its length, i will still find you waiting?
the tenth muse 
Don’t think I’ll be waiting to share that load. Maybe you could find a chest of gold under the bridge.
So many great images here, but I wonder: why wouldn’t the person be waiting, knowing you’re waiting at the end.
who knows why someone might’ve given up waiting, hoping…? it’s the wondering, the leap of faith, that i wanted to come across with this, mainly. thanks for the vote of confidence though, Mosk. 🙂
Much courage is needed to stay on course, and faith too. Interested, enjoyed the various images and colors you have here.
There are some questions we won’t ask unless we already know the answer.
{ami}
http://sundrysumthins.wordpress.com/
hmmm… interesting point you make here. took me aback a little, questioning. thanks!
That is an image to drown oneself in: enlarged it is imposingly dreamlike and you blended the words with it so wonderfully.
The honeysuckled tears and the tick-tock dandelion clock are just lovely.
thanks much, april. i take dreamlike as a high compliment! 🙂
I’m thinking your poem is the product of a sultry night. It is so sticky yet fragrant. The honeysuckle almost suffocates and one wanders if one’s shoes might stick to a bridge. An unusual but well painted story here in this poem with well drawn images.
i was just saying to a friend the other day that i think the sultry stickiness of the weather here is starting to creep into my poems… it is early for these summer images. thanks, Gay.
My first visit to your blog. I enjoyed your imagery and think I followed your thought process to the end as to why there is a question. Then, again, maybe not ! Nice writing.
Thank you very much.
Siggi in Downeast Maine
thanks and welcome, siggi! smiles.
we each face the lightning alone….i like the apparent contradiction in that line…also how that interacts with your final line of will i find you there? there are some really fine touches in this joanna
thanks, b. 🙂
Great imagery (too many favourites to quote), an open ending which is aces, and just awesome verse structure.
That’s pretty great right there.
wow, you’ve got me blushing. especially the bit about the structure; this started out as a prose poem, but a colleague from my critique group suggested i play around with verses… guess it was good advice!
Great tension between mood and image here–many serene moments in a deluge of frazzling sensations, contradictions, fears, yet beauty intrudes physically as an antidote in the actual language. A very fine bit of writing.
Interesting metaphors very delicately woven and intertwined.
Intense! You will sail through…. my wishes
hugs xo
wonderful, wonderful writing