Stalled on the bridge, in between here and there.
I look back to all I have built.
What is still standing and what is no longer in service.
Hoping others will use these spaces, be thoughtful about repairs.
That tall one will need a new roof.
Some may be too weathered to save.
Pausing on the bridge, in between here and there.
I look ahead to wide open space.
What could be built and what is needed.
Beauty that can only be created by elements and time.
A center which radiates the harmony of shade trees.
Bare hands joining for strength that I alone do not have.
I remain next to the railing.
water rushing beneath.
No longer who I was.
Not yet who I am becoming.
© Ali Grimshaw