Forty Two Seconds Poem by Margaret Ann Newcomb

Driving across Hood River Bridge,
I note how much I love being
suspended above the water.
Perhaps because I cannot
stop and savor the
sight at my leisure.
The views East and West,
Sunshine and water,
equally grand and
bittersweet in their brevity.
Cool air whips through
my windows. The same
air setting the surfers to fly
and dogs to run full boar in the sand.
It's over now. And soon I'll get to return.