Bliss Bridge

That warm summer day, I couldn’t have asked

For more, standing on the Charles Bridge in Prague.

One perfect bright day, authentic, unmasked,

The August sun shines, no trace of the fog.

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A cobblestoned bridge engulfed in romance,

A blend of artists, playing and drawing,

Boats glide below, I stare off in a trance,

The frost in my soul suddenly thawing.

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An old violinist’s haunted version

Of Ava Maria, he feels, he plays,

I learn a masterclass in immersion,

The few coins I toss, not near enough praise.

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Now when anxiety attacks within,

I close my eyes and hear that violin.

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