Day 1529, who.

Day 1529

A white bridge

spanning a dark


crosses me

to a side


I don’t know who

I will meet

over there

within me

Day 1528, fog.

Day 1528

Through all the fog

I see

in the morning


I walk


to the other side

of the bridge

that I don’t see


but know

Day 1527, weighted

Day 1527

I throw out

these thin

weighted lines


every now


and than

I hope to find

a depth

that tells me

if I am climbing up

or down

Day 1521, links.

Day 1521

I see

these links that formed

illusive at first

through the blinders


but look

lean back

and the road followed

is clear

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