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:





                                   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


only by the muffled


of the river