As kids we would sneak out to Long Pond Bridge
When the sun settled beyond
the white birch sky-line. We would look
at the manmade lake, our reflections
staring back at us in the dark cedar water
and wait for the brave one
To step up on the rail
And swan dive down
To the surface, breaking the muddy reflection
Of us staring into the unknown.
The wait seemed like a thaw of winter
As he approached the surface
From below, rising with fistfuls
Of brown leaves, stones,
and ground fish bones,
Re-entering the plain
That bridged us to the underworld.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow - this is a superb piece, Tim. Well done.