I was instantly hooked on this one. I love poems that give the readers an instruction – that tell us how. Plus, the imagery is just gorgeous. Enjoy!
Inferno, Meet My Bridges
By Rebecca Erickson
Ice polishes the streets as a man
and a woman struggle to meet
on a bridge. They slip, hips hit
ice; her bare hands reach for his.
Still they rise, skates throw ice dust
behind them. Again, they fall. Joining
would be like the sun’s caress—letting warmth
seep into ice. Tired and bruised, knees kiss
the ground. The bridge begins to burn; she flickers
behind flames as she steps toward him.
You see, the key to a good marriage is never
hating each other at the same time, blames lick
blisters on her legs. She reaches for him,
about as possible as cradling a crescent
moon. On the other side, the man freezes, eyes whip
back and forth, no signals demand his feel to move.
She picks up her pace; fire swirls
in her eyes. Smoke makes a home
in her lungs. Tire chases her; the bridge-
starts to collapse. The only thought
in his head screams at him to reach her. The moon
witnesses him awakening, his sprint to her,
and their plummet to the polish below.
Originally published in Pasque Petals 89.1, Spring 2015
Featured image by SETShots under the creative commons license on Flickr.
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