The Bridge

Revised (slightly revised):

I passed a bridge today,
which I did not cross
but instead hung onto the edge
like a cat being given a bath,
pondered if it was a test and waited
for my legs to step unafraid
on wavering shadows
and snarling seabugs.

I was afraid, afraid
of the colour of the sky
at the other end, afraid
of the sunset bleeding
into my skin, afraid
of wavering shadows
ghosting my body
and snarling seabugs
gnawing at my bones, afraid
of the exploration
of truths untold.

First draft:

I passed a bridge today,
which I did not cross
but instead hung onto the edge
like a cat being given a bath,
pondered if it was a test and waited
for my legs to step unafraid
on wavering shadows
and snarling seabugs.

I did not cross the bridge
because I was afraid
of the colour of the sky
at the other end, afraid
of the sunset bleeding
into my skin, afraid
of the exploration
of truths untold, afraid
of wavering shadows
ghosting my body
and snarling seabugs
gnawing at my bones.