I stood from my hiding place
And began to walk towards the bridge.
The wind blew once again
But I endured.
With my forearm sheilding my eyes
from the coming light
I made my way.

The wind blows your hair and hides your face.
With both hands on the railing of the bridge
You hold on. Do not ascend just yet.
Dust blew into my eyes
and in that second you disappeared.
I am left alone on this bridge.
I was too late.

I count the petals that flow
With the river. Slowly the quantity
Withers down to a lonely few
And the clouds cover the rivers
Sparkle and the petals hue.
With a blur the ceiling fans whirl greats me.
I was greeted by the morning fog.