Bridge Called Water
I wrote hard on paper at the bottom of a pool near a canyon where the stars slid onto their bellies like fish I wrote: … I went through the mountain through the leaves of La Puente to see the moon but it was too late too long ago to walk on glass. … Near those years when the house fell on me my father told me draw mom in bed with another man— … From a plum tree the sound of branches fall like fruit I’m older no longer afraid my voice like water pulled from the well where the wind had been buried where someone was always running into my room asking, what’s wrong?
Copyright © 2018 by Diana Marie Delgado. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on September 19, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“In most of my poems, the structure comes last and that was the case for this one: an inverted narrative that begins with a denouement and ends with an experience of unspoken fear. The title, ‘Bridge Called Water,’ is connected to a dream I had in which on a bridge at the bottom of a canyon I met a man, who, in conversing with me, gave me an overwhelming sense of peace. However, that peace, although I did not realize this in the dream itself, was, I realized later, only attainable because I had died. The portion of the poem in which I sit with my father at a kitchen table actually took place and has stayed with me like a splinter; this poem presented me with the opportunity to take it out.”
—Diana Marie Delgado
Diana Marie Delgado
Diana Marie Delgado is the author of Late-Night Talks With Men I Think I Trust (Center for Book Arts, 2015), andTracing the Horse, which is forthcoming from BOA Editions in the fall of 2019.
Date Published: 2018-09-19
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/bridge-called-water