From Waters, Muddy and Clear
Against our bridges
so much water
has broken
both muddy
and clear.
Our piers
have been splintered
scarred forever
corroded,
hollowed out
even shifted
millimeters
heavy as eternity.
What stays whole
after such erosion?
And friendship,
that arcane
sacred feeling,
the great consolation,
has it withstood the clash,
the impact
or is this, even this
an illusion?