A Bridge

I think I live upon a bridge

I’m too afraid to cross.

I’ve set up camp for the time being

(Now so much time’s been lost.)

The water’s too far down to drink

And the fish are out of reach.

There’s an orchard on that side, I think,

If only I could see.

But I cannot know for sure, so I’m afraid I must stay put

And wait for the day when I’ve courage enough to step my timid foot

And pick a side — pick any side —

And make it off this bridge.

For if I don’t learn to decide,

The way off is off the ridge

And that’s quite a ways to fall

Simply to avoid it all.

And I — well, I am very small.