Poem: Not a bridge

[mdlbear]

Can one mourn for something that never was
    never will be
        might have been?

This path is broad and smooth
    here beside the river.
        Brambles hide the other bank.

See that dead tree, leaning there?
    Soon it will fall and block the way,
        have to be cut apart and carried off.

Someone could have felled it,
    pushed it the other way,
        made a bridge.

Never mind the path not taken;
    here there was never a path,
        only a place where a bridge that never was

never will be,
    might have been.
        Yes, one can.

			-- Stephen Savitzky, 2008-04-25

I don't write poetry very often these days. This one just fell into my lap. I'm not sure I wanted it there, but muses are fickle creatures, and I suppose one must take their gifts as one finds them.