Bridges Are Burning

Bridges are burning and
I’m a little glad to see it.

Crossing them
seemed sometimes
a blasphemy.

In broad daylight
or even at night
when I’ve been alone,

there have been moments
of silence and separation
when I’ve felt that those distances
from rail to wave
and across the stream
were just meant to be.

Still, despite
my fear of heights,
there will be times
when I will think
of those bridges
on fire
and long for the courage
to run out along
the cracking spans
and see how close I could come
to the other side

before I fell.