The Footbridge

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I’ll wait for you in the place we met

Where sunlight peppers the bridge,

Where only the sound of the whippoorwill

Is heard across the ridge.

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I’ll wait for you until dusk arrives

When crickets are in melody,

When the warmth of sunshine begins to wane;

Cool breezes brush the trees.

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I’ll watch for your familiar gait

As each traveler rounds the bend

And hold my breath until I’ve met their gaze

And know my vigil is not at end.

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I’ll be right here by the footbridge,

At the end of the well-worn path,

Where all my yesterdays meet tomorrow;

Where time has tempered wrath.

© Copyright pending Susan R. O'Brien

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