The spoken moments hold hands

  with the unspoken moments.

Frigid cheeks on an unswerving bridge,

   miles old;

Hardened rock standing firm,

   reaching far down into the swirls;

Babble passes behind and below--

   bicycles and arguments;

A seal glosses the water,

   A car trips along from the grocery store.

My legs fuse with the stones,

   and I, too, am ancient;

Forever here, 

   my history in battles and silences.

photo via