Today’s poem is a rewrite of a piece original called “Living On a Knife Edge”. This poem was one of two, that I submitted to be published, but the other poem was accepted ahead of this piece, and so readers I’m posting this rewritten poem for you to peruse today…..
Living On a Wooden Bridge
Fire, fire, there’s raging fires
I need help to stamp out the flames
Burning down this old timber bridge
A traveler’s last causeway to the edge
Carrying today’s harsh realities
Spanning a lifetime dreams and fantasies
Rain, rain, there’s a Noah’s flood
I need help to stop the cascading suds
Fill the sandbags with riverbed mud
Smother the leakages with woolly rugs
Ring out the qualms and doubts
And refuse doctor’s drugs and handouts
Warning, warning, outside there’s a heatwave
I need help to see through the dusty haze
Douse the fiery furnace tonight
Close the doors, the fireflies are alight
Open your eyes, and view the glowing sights
And cross the bridge into life’s future delights
Ivor Steven (c) March 2020


