Bridges of existing

I remember my bridge- sitting in the evening
Hair blown, smells indistinct, kids playing
On the sand below,  buffaloes on way home.
There was another bridge  but I was not there
Above  the water and the speedy cars passing
Like nobody's business but it  was   like that.

Bridges existed and one  had better be there.
The beautiful  bridge did exist and so did she.
A beautiful woman, her hair blown, her body
Turned nonexistent, but the  mind continued
In sheaves  of random prose , tattered verse .
There are bridges of  existing, hers and mine.

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