a walk home after heartbreak

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a walk home after heartbreak

As if inviting her
to take a step and trust
the rippled path will hold,
a warm October moon
rolls out his yellow bridge
across the lake and beckons
her to walk across,
into his pockmarked arms.

But this sparkling bridge transforms
to strips of wind-blown ribbons
when whispered breaths of wind 
disarm its feigned appearance
of stability
atop the water's surface.

No, October moon,
she's been let coldly down
a time or two before 
by tantalizing eyes
like yours, by promises
and empty words that build
a bridge to draw her close
but only then return
her heart confused and cold. 
No, October moon,
she's learned she will
not trust a moonlight bridge.


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