Everything is Looking Up

I watch above from below by the rocks,
And you stand, firm, at the top,
Atop the bridge hanging over the shallow water,
Over large stones and bludgeons that stock the panoramic view of nature,
At the feet of every landing flying-creature and walking-critter that stalks and paces under the sun. 

The beaming rays of light glare over your figure,
As if you stand nonexistent;
And below, at my level, no shadow casts a silhouette.
I motion for you to come down,
To meet me at the river’s end,
At the bed of the cold, flowing current.

Curling, I watched your lips cover your smile from the distance.
Turning, you hoisted your body onto the bridge’s siding, wobbling, straightening and preparing for free-fall. 

Stories above you once stood;
Stories you’ll no longer tell.
Arms away, I couldn’t stop you—
I couldn’t catch you as you fell,
Crumbling to pieces and skipping across the water’s epidermis like rocks.
And in the wind it carried the crunching sounds, the poundings, the thumps, the knocks.