start anew

the rough
bruised hue
of waves
against
the browned
pylons,
thickened
by winters
cold hand.
how horrible
a death
it would be
to sink
into that blue.
it makes
you wonder
why they
choose the
highest point
of the bridge
to end
things. so
many easier
ways to get
out of
the world,
to shake free,
start anew.