Daniel Thomas ~ Poet
THE
OLD BRIDGE
after
Max Pechstein “Alte Brücke” c. 1910-1911
The old bridge arches across
the blue-green river, where ink-
black fish swim like a string
of dark, dreamless days.
When we close our eyes,
we’re carried to the other side--
a garish fantasy
of pink clouds, orange
roofs and purple paths. Sleep-
walkers, we shrug our shoulders
against the day and fill
our silver pails until
they gleam with dream water.
When night falls, we
are free
as spread-armed shirts pinned
to a moonbeam.
We dance in a delirious wind.