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Tuesday 22 September 2015

A BRIDGE

I have walked across this bridge many times and every time,
down an uneven path, at the edge of the lake, I stop
to look back, getting a little poetic, a little idealistic,
a little dreamy about the millions of small examples of peace,
of beauty, of the possible, of simplicity in an increasingly complicated world.

It is a bridge, a bridge admiring itself in the water,
if only we could do likewise, to study our reflections
and see peace, beauty, the possible, simplicity
and admire ourselves for the right reasons.




The bridge is in Clumber Park, Nottinghamshire

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