Burning Bridges

The Bridge burned. Its flames writhed, rose and settled like a funeral pyre. As such, the event was an inevitable one, preventing the monolithic embalmment seemingly confusing those who thought anything and especially connection, was so set in stone and everlasting.

Crumbling, crumbling,

As if disturbed determining

Thoughts of sitting,

Of yesterday, looking for ongoing reasoning;

Fragrant, vacant coming aloud-

Down and around forgetting;

Perfume and worry in eternal memory

Blaze stagnating as it died down slowly in contrast to the fast inferno it initially engulfed as. There was no way of determining the origin of this destruction as what was once held up now sizzled as it sank into the deep river below. From there the water washed away much of the lighter wreckage and left the heftier bits and what could not be swiftly swept up and away was the seared memory of what burned bright for only a bit while closing the gap between separate shores. There for a little smoke, then here no more.