Bridge haibun – for dVerse

I cross the bridge every day, almost without noticing it. I notice the river – the changing tide means it’s different every day. I exclaim at the height of the water, lapping under the bridge at high tide; or the wide glistening banks of mud at low tide. I notice the library at one end of the bridge, storing knowledge, and the old warehouse at the other – storing nothing, now. I notice the birds – flocks of starlings tonight, flying synchronised patterns over the water – now a wave, now a whale, now a cloud – or gulls hanging in the air, or swooping low over the surface of the river. In the summer there may be children jumping off the low wall along the bridge into the river water. They turn up at high tide, daring each other, laughing at the danger. In the winter there are only fishermen, silent and still as winter air. Perhaps we rarely notice bridges. We were there, we are here, we crossed that river. We neglect the thing that carried us.

River swift below
Birds wild sky sailing above
Bridge bearing me home


20 thoughts on “Bridge haibun – for dVerse

  1. So often we only notice what is missing long after it is gone. Your words create the sense of mundane daily commute eventful for the lack of excitement when crossing.


  2. Sometimes we do take the bridge for granted, that we don’t notice it at all. I enjoyed the details from the birds to the children to the river ~ Thanks for joining us ~


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