Lawrence Bridges. Where Lovers Converge.

WHERE LOVERS CONVERGE



The sweetness of forgetting
comes down to falling
in love with you
each day
all over again
 
Where lovers converge
there is plenty of time
Time doesn’t even come up
until the children
are safely themselves
 
It’s always been hard to say
why we’re here
if time is a map
other than
love dropped us here            
 
What do you make of it?  (for Tupelo – what do you make of memories?)
Airport moving sidewalk
We’re whisked to the end
Deposit our luggage
in a cab
 
Not so eager to resume
work and meet up
with friends
In the back seat
we hold hands
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