Image for the poem The Light From Lu Bu

The Light From Lu Bu's Bridge

Come meet me at the pillars
of Lu Bu's bridge, at dusk.
Through, and although, the crowd.
I will be distinguished,
by a torch held high.
A beacon for you, as unchanging
as it was once then.
During the expanse
of our separate journeys,
I met Father Time.
He called me up
several more steps
of his creaking porch.
Although I stepped back once,
perhaps twice, telling him
not that many just yet.
He said 'Then change'.
So I've traded my armor
for a mule.
My arrows are quivered.
A plow stains my shoulders now
with bleeding browns
and bleached salt.
I hunted but once last month
and all I found was the smoke
from Yuki's chimney.
She still burns logs
like the wooden soldiers
she's always been known to grow
a bit at first.
I ate her rice, and smiled
at the pauses in her stories.
More tea?  Yes, please.
(The rice was yesterday's, and dry).
I shined the bottom of the bowl
with grease-bread,
like we do back home.
All of the scratches
inside that bowl, though;
I wondered how many men
signed it with their spoons.
Like them, but
not too like them,
I met her because of hunger.
And those first morsels
always taste only like salt,
parching my mouth.
But it's what I do,
just to get something
into my stomach.
Meet me at the light
coming from Lu Bu's bridge.
The sun is tamed by dusk,
I wear no helmet now.
You'll see the white streak
flashing through my hair.
It's from all the years
that ran by so fast.
And it's from the tally
of staring at stars,
looking for the one
that would lead you home.
And highly, this torch
that I carry again,
last lit when it saw you off.
When you had left with
only what you could carry;
Eagerness and youth.
These pillars at the bridge
that hold the weight
of passer-by's
-Where we scratched our place
and a bygone decade,
have stood as time keepers.
Waiting for the day
that we change the date
of our once hasty initials.
We can use the same knife
that we had broken in half,
on the day we had split
our paths.
As each of us took our piece of it,
and tucked it into our hearts.
I am here, my lost love,
I bear the light on Lu Bu's bridge.
Bring your weariness
and your shiny piece of steel.
Place it once again with mine.
Let them meet, ache with ache.
They will forge, anew,
from our diligence
of carrying faith.
Of a weight felt,
but quietly heralded.
Father Time, he
will lean back
and wait for the bribe.
For when we throw that knife
into the river.
Written by Styxian
Author's Note
A pot of coffee, a pack of cigarettes, and two hundred text messages later, this is the best I could do.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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