Another poem from the “Joline” series.
We walked to the river
beneath the towering cement bridge.
A solitary barge moved with
grace and silence.
Our voices were not silent.
Djarum smoke filled the space
between us as we took turns
speaking and telling stories
releasing pent-up anger.
I felt your direction was directionless
you felt I was not happy with you.
The fragile state of mind we brought
fractured, exposing the vulnerabilities
and baggage weighing and influencing
our thoughts and actions.
Who was right?
Who was wrong?
Pride became the wounds
opening before our eyes
and that road we foolishly
set to walk together, vanished.