The orphans's favourite haunt was the bridge,
decrepit and crescent shaped
like the half moon above.
When the dreaded time came for parting
they promised to meet there again.
Every year he waited on the bridge,
scorched by the sun, scorned by the rain.
Till birds returned to their nests,
till stars shimmered in the water
and farmers trudged home from their fields.
The crescent moon lingered with him,
as the purple dusk darkened into night.
Memories of their childlhood,
the good times and bad,
were all that were left.
The Bridge is an imagery as the connection to the past.Some old memories like the water under the bridge flowed back again. A beautiful poem as usual.
Yes, Cigeng, the bridge connects to the past. I was inspired by the real life story of a daughter who was given up for adoption 20 years ago and where she and her biological parents met again. She was from your homeland.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Kwai. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.
Thank you. Glad you like it.