I stand stopped on the bridge
from Old River to where I live
bothered by the diatribe in my head
an argument, political
leveled at a statement
made by a dear, dear friend
a year ago
I have gone too far
frustration pitch
for a woman I have never argued with
in person
never had reason to
don't have now
I stare through the metal bridge fence
at the river, the trees below
at nothing
at my own horror
at myself
turn toward the street
meet the laughing gaze of a girl, waving madly
out the back window of an SUV
her smile, breaking her face with light
she is waving at me
this is how it works
I smile, feel the weight of my frown
everpresent these days
lift, a droplet of grace
worn through my rhino’s hide
to moisten
a long-parched heart
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