Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The bridge made of matches

Seemed a stack of matches.
Tied together by an unseen thread,
They floated above a flowing stream.
The bridge that was two languages.
Matches indeed those logs that joined,
A moment's shine, an hour's char,
And nobodies till the end of time.
Drooping words after a day's slogging
A non-existent dialog among dialects.
Start the dialog and try walking
See if it'll stand or fall.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thanks for writing this.