The Water beneath this bridge
Flows and beckons
To cars crawling In thick congestion,
Their driver's deaf
To Siren's singing,
But I hear and smell
The taste of river wine.
My friend is dead
And I am dying.
The night air comes in
Coolly, with its impossibilities
Of stars' distance,
Knowledge unknowable
In our depths of space
And wraparound time,
Wherein my friend flies
The souls flight,
Knowing now all whys Of God,
the colors of the unsung Planets.
The sky is mirrored
In this face of waters
From my mud of river bank,
Where I ponder city light
Beams and ionosphere reflections,
Over the horizon and out
Of mind, where time
Will take us all
With the last crash of our heart's beat.
My friend is dead
And I am dying.