Spirit Bridge

Poem from Moon Juice by Kate Wakeling

In the deep green,

in the heat of the gloom,

a leyak creeps across its selves:

                       fish,

         beetle,

                   monkey,

                             bat,

                                   a lone and drifting skull.

The bridge creaks.

 

A footstep.

 

Somebody comes.

 

Choosing a shape,

the leyak slips

to the water's edge.

 

The footstep waits.

 

The leyak waits.

 

A trembling light

rises from the bank

to blink beneath the bridge.

 

For one white-shot moment

the trees

the path

the water

all burn in the quick cold light of the leyak.

 

                 A gasp.

 

                          A face.

 

                                    A reaching hand.

 

Darkness returns,

the quiet

unsettled

only by the muffled

whisper

of the river

scrambling

below.

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