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Bridgeheads

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  • Bridgeheads

    All are painfully inept,
    In matters looped
    All things belie,
    Swing outward, inward,
    Curled or stooped,
    Lost as a kitten's cry.

    Lonely islands half marooned,
    Each parting link
    Lives on mislaid,
    Each private marl lies
    At the brink,
    With overpass unmade.

    Amputated hearts that call
    To ferrymen
    Who never pause,
    Sees me upon my
    Private fen,
    You, alone on yours.
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