Joni Mitchell singing ’bout blue and thats all you could see really. Blue.
I was driving so I didn’t look down but
I imagined the road, the big concrete feet holding us up.
All of it made down river somewhere called tongue point.
Everything all caught up in my chest and Joni crooning, helping me to make something
Im better talking after I wait a minute. Clearer, calmer,
apt to let the sky sooth that sharp twist of words over my tongue.
Better, but often not patient enough for it.
Taking the bridge into the sky that day on top of all that
deep green and steady rush below,
I let your hand on my chest steady me into flight.
I offered you the same.
We’ve been here ever since,
Daytime and sun-drenched, hand-holding, sweaty behind the knees.
Later cold-nosed under blankets in the night, softest clutching I’ve ever.
You always telling me where you are going,
even though I won’t remember. Even though I know
you’ll always come home to me.
Every bridge arching and aching for our crossing.
Every mile one that I want to take with you.