Driving Over the Bridge

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by Jason Zhang

I had a daughter once, dressed all in white
but for her shoes
And a ribbon
Steely, implacable, mirthful
snaked through hair feathered by the water
across cracked shoulders
over ribs and hipbones
whispering of rubied grapes.

Swimming away, I said –
Sorry love, but you look nothing like your mother.

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J. Zhang is a guest blogger for My Dog Ate My Blog and a writer on online degrees for Guide to Online Schools.

Water Candle

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the struggling light
flickers atop a water candle
a windy spell blows
and threatens to put it out
the flame almost leaps off
but grabs onto the icy wick
burning at the watery fuel

the flame dreams of the water
and the water holds its silence, unyielding
ceding no ground
betraying no emotion
but the flame burns still
on the water candle consuming the icy wick

the water seeks the company of the flame
the words exchanged of half passion
half mystery
betraying no emotion
a perfect perplexity of state
a perfect refusal of pairing

yet the flame burns
atop a water candle
the flame aches
denied for long
no chance handed him
no hint of future unity

the flame burns upon an icy wick
dreaming of the comfort of watery embrace
the water plays games of wiles
leading the flame's yellow heart to abeyance
leading it to passion's end
a place of hopelessness
and pointless visions

the water candle lets the flame burn
upon an icy wick it has stood for long
waiting for a sign of hope
the struggling light weathers down
waiting for the next gust of wind
to extinguish it for eternity

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