An Introduction to “Where Bridges Hold Memory”
We’ve all got one.
That story we don’t always tell—the one that lives quietly in the background of our lives. Not the grand heartbreak. Not the dramatic ending. Just the one that… slipped away. The one that got away.
Maybe it was timing. Maybe it was distance. Maybe it was just life doing what life does—moving us forward while leaving something precious behind.
This piece began differently. Normally, I write the poem first and let the artwork follow. But this time, I recreated an image—a quiet scene by the water—and let it speak first. What emerged was a mirrored message, told from two perspectives: a boy and a bridge, and the ache of memory that never quite fades.
These poems—Where Bridges Hold Memory— are for that moment. For the quiet ache that never quite fades. For the ones who still sit by the water, watching love they used to know.
For the bridges that remember, even when we try to forget.
Where Bridges Hold Memory
She sits alone where the water sighs,
Dreams drifting like clouds in twilight skies.
Her gaze, focused to the lovers afar—
Two shadows embrace beneath one star.
The bridge, a witness to hearts once near,
Now whispers soft with what she can’t hear.
Birds wheel above in silent grace,
While longing paints her still, pale face.
Reflections ripple— time bends slow
She watches love she used to know.
A silent ache hidden on her face,
Still waiting in that quiet place.
He sits alone where the water sighs,
Dreams drifting like clouds in twilight skies.
His gaze, focused to the lovers afar—
Two shadows embrace beneath one star.
The bridge, a witness to hearts once near,
Now whispers soft with what he can’t hear.
Birds wheel above in silent grace,
While longing paints his still, pale face.
Reflections ripple— time bends slow
He watches love he used to know.
A silent ache hidden on his face,
Still waiting in that quiet place.
Poetry of My Life 
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