On Prebends bridge I caught the evolution of twilight into dawn.
Watched shifting hues of shadow and light brightening into colour.
And, for a moment, I thought I saw her
looking up through the morning mist.
Her pallid, frail frame accentuated by the glistening blue ocean of her eyes.
But, she faded. Like the mist itself
And all that I was left with, once again,
was the shallow entrails
of the memory of her
Gorgeous poem, Stephen. I love the ethereal, ghostlike quality of your writing. Romantic and a little sinister ('shallow entrails') at the same time. Great!
I wondered why the water was that colour 😂 & Newcastle Exhibition! Now, that was what you called bad head gear the next day! 🤮. Happy memories...sort of
I too have memories of Prebends Bridge, Stephen, though not as yours. I was a student at Durham when the bow and arrow were secret weapons. Prebends Bridge was a stop-off on our way home to “download” the night’s Newcastle Exhibition.
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Stephen Atkinson
Wed 19th Apr 2023 18:11
Thank you, John! You know me, I sometimes can't help turning things a little sinister 😄👺