Under the Bridge. Poem 3. New Long Version.

Movement and silence
Frozen in time,
The mountain has caste no shadow.

There are no shadows in this picture.
The sky, a white and blue mirror
Reflecting nothing.

The water absorbing white and indigo
Is brother and sister to the serene sky
That lacks both sun and moon.

Merchants crossing the bow shaped bridge
Were sketched for no apparent reason
Except to make the bridge seem real,

More real than the inkling of a dream
Fixed forever on wood and paper.

I turn the calendar to the wall.
I can no longer look at this picture.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
May 8th. - 17th. 2018.