The Bridge

The air is cold today, but must your heart be colder?
I can't seem to "cross over the bridge" of
Any conversation with you--that I don't fall over.
To pick myself up and brush the dirt off
My shirt, and wring (with tears) the sticky
And murky consequence off my hair and--brain
Is big-time goal, as it has been...of late.
I heard you saying, "Am not too cold because
I wear a sweater under my jacket."
My turning on the radio to listen to Medved's
While in front of the computer is really not
Casus belli. I have learned, over the years--
To read you like a book, simply by looking...
And in looking, I hear you louder....
Talking to you these days is like walking
On a high wire, and I have yet to learn
To find my balance. At my age, I can only pray.
Is a bridge too far? I can live a thousand
Stumbles on a bridge, but not a single fall.
Together, let us cross the bridge--hand in hand.