The Bridge

Recalling my first biology lesson 

it smells of the sawdust that dries out their skin

my father slices flesh with a scalpel

he urges me to touch

the dead eyeball of a deer

at first I am interested

and later

disgusted

 

my father, a taxidermist

is the opposite of me

he, makes a trophy of the dead

I, find prize in eyes of the living

 

connection is flawed

between human and beast

a bridge, over water, has fallen

and sank

fleshy hands do not hold dirt covers paws

a human eye cannot see

the beauty in a warrior bee

no

it cannot see the strife for life

that lurks among the trees

 

the bridge has fallen between human and nature

a bridge that once carried life

the bricks were weathered,

railings collapsed

the animals no longer crossed

the bridge, now friends with neglect,

gave up 

 

I will stand where bridge once stood

my shoulders turned toward the sun

I will carry travelers across

both furred and fleshed

to meet each other in the face of nature

again they will hold each other

hand to paw

 

humans have forgotten that eyes are life

but I have always known

I am the link between human and nature

I will work to strengthen the bond

human and deer

human and raven

human and snail

will again travel across

into an Eden of hope and peace

And I am The Bridge.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
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