Bridge Crossing.............Like A Twilight Zone Episode Poem by John Tansey

Crossing the bridge, eastward
morning’s yawning commute;
it’s long, worm-like procession
leading our scripted lives.

The sun, hung
from its seasonal spot of Autumn
in blinding
line sight of the driver’s eye,

Veering, for a moment,
off the road
squinting, dreamlike,
at a starling
seemingly lost…strayed from its flock
and soaring toward the horizon-

A wormhole of remembrance,
recollections,
the unabridged diary of childhood, seen
in a fleeting moment-

I fell through the same whole in the sky,
as that bird
and did not come back
nor make it to the other side...