The Bridge

I stood under a bridge as the sun was sinking low
listening to the heavy trucks and cars
rumbling overhead.
I couldn't help but think
that for all their hurried pace
their rush to get to some other place
before another second drops from the clock and
how fortunate I was just to stand and be.

Standing there I could feel the slip of time
that exists between the here and now
of what was and what may have been
I marveled at how paper thin and frail it is
as it falls away and
evening descends above me like a
wall of ice with the
pale light of the moon falling down.
I stand under the bridge and I feel at peace.