I’ll never forget
that June summer night
when I stood on Tower Bridge,
looked over the railing,
and I wondered what it
would be like to fall over,
and I would fly for a moment
until I hit the water.
would I float?
would I sink to the bottom
where my life has always been?
the bridge, shining brighter
than the full moon- its
reflection rippling in
the Thames. And me, a moment,
a tiny fragment of billions
that have strolled and stood
in the same spot.
did they think the same thoughts too?
I love how the poem reflects the questions of the poet, of so many; a melancholic piece.