Bridge of Sighs
Where do you go when courage dies hermit trapped in covid surprise? Alone I tread the bridge of sighs safe refuge hidden from my eyes beneath charred clouds in charcoal skies. Prophecy warns in an owl’s guise, Who? Who? upon the bridge cries? Raindrops slow and swollen baptize courage lost in dark disguise of despair in coronal lies somehow still hoping to grow wise.
-George R. Ross
As I reflect on lonely journeys made to places not on maps, but in my soul, it seemed to be a loser’s game I played, longing to smile again, once more to be whole. When I tread the therapeutic path long nights I spent in battle with my Shadow, purged I emerged as from a sacred bath days I dwelled alone in the bardo. I learned to bring to light my feelings mad or sad, glad or scared, I’ll show them all: I strive to put my heart in all my dealsings: Oh, to real like Bogie and Bacall! When darkness fills your soul with pain and strife be bold and seek joyful, reflective life.
These beautiful faces are Victoria Crawford and George R. Ross, writing partners and published poets in collaboration and individually. They both wrote these two two poems, one by each of them about loneliness and mental health. They are both over 70 years old and lived in locked down for many months because of age and health vulnerabilities.