Reflections from a bridge.

 Do you have a minute to sit and listen to all of the good things in my life?

Yes, a minute of your time is I fear all that would be needed, no need to fear boredom, as like a leaf caught in a backwater while the mainstream drifts by, I must dance to the repetitive tune of the swirling current that takes me along, yet takes me nowhere.

All I can do is watch life at work all around me, bees fervently gathering from plants at the waters edge in an abstract hover while crows provide backing vocals for a soprano thrush perched on a branch reaching far out above the water.

All are mindful of the inky blue cloud which has appeared on the horizon casting doubt on all this fine day had promised. Later will come the rain and then the flood that will carry me away, but not too far, just downstream until I am trapped in the next slow moving whirlpool, the prisoner who earns remission by doing time for the crime he did not commit.

The future frowns on me with murky features indistinct, or is that a trick of the shimmering water? wish now I could stop the imminent  onslaught from the heavens, perhaps a rainbow?..

No, just a dream from the man seeing reflections from a bridge.