Crossings Poem by Andy Brookes
Crossings
Burning bridges crossed, just, as our scorched feet attest.
the river runs cold deep,we watch the sunrise hand in hand,
another day more crossings to make, will we always be so lucky,
or will we drown in the river of our own delusion?
Still, we look death in the eyesaying defiantly not today mate
starting a new page crossing off another day,another bridge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 4:50:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
