Biting bullets

Running figures

Indiscriminate loss

Distant neighbours

Grief stricken

Every day.

When we walk across the Bridge rucksacks fill with empathy;
The River far beneath our feet continues to a bigger sea.

At times we carry pain alone,
we share more than we ever own.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

2 thoughts on “Bridge”

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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