Bridges

the furrowed bed of sand worries again as it had before the waves left the land. for the falling tide leaves a child weeping alone, he's letting go of the anchor and all the lines… waiting for the fingers of the grey wave or his mother's hand to roll over him with endless water… 10,000 bridges show me father. now I'm older, now much older and this wave can take me out to sea. I feel the pull beneath my feet. But I can see her, she is calling me I can feel her there…I can feel her there. waiting for the fingers of the grey wave or his mother's hand (mother's hand) to roll over him with endless water… 10,000 bridges show me father