The road leads through the marsh. The Parker River spins and spins its way out and back. In the summer, kids jump off the railing into the water below. It’s not far but it is a leap of faith. The river is tidal, the depth not set. The bridge is compromised and was shut down over the winter.
Some authority put a sign up on the bridge:
NO JUMPING OFF
Not a poem. Not a haiku. But the line breaks seem significant. A message to those in need. A reminder not to try. Not to take chances.
It’s not a message I want to hear. Telling me to stay as I am. Telling me to let the bridge be the bridge and that is all. Just keep moving in the direction you are moving. The water is for itself. Not for you. Write as you always have written. Take no chances. No chance.
No Jumping Off.
Stay as you are.
I will not jump off this bridge but I will jump off.
I say to you jump off with me. Take your chances. Swim. Bridge, bridge, and bridge your way into where you are going.
Jump off. Swim beside me.