I look
through the spaces
between the iron steps
at the colourless flow
of the river
down below,
transporting chunks of ice
like white clouds.
In a distress
that lasts an instant
I seem to be feeling
what you feel:
that every void continues
in the void,
every gap,
even a short one,
opens onto another gap,
every chasm empties
into the infinite abyss.
WISHING A BRIDGE