Donning’s Bridge

Donning’s Bridge in the distance,
less and less invisible
with each step we take through the moor.

This morning is too quiet for September,
too quiet to ease this melancholy,
this unsubstantial doubt,
this listless uneasiness,
growing greater and greater
with each step we take through the moor.

Instinct bades our hands hold tight,
two sets of eyes become one in the hunt,
nothing but emptiness barricades us from the treasure we seek,
this dream, this hope we share,
falling further and further into the great unknown
with each step we take through the moor…

– Kurt Poleet

Morning-Mist-on-the-Canal-C2836

Travis Bickle: I’ll tell you why. I think you’re a lonely person. I drive by this place a lot and I see you here. I see a lot of people around you. And I see all these phones and all this stuff on your desk. It means nothing. Then when I came inside and I met you, I saw in your eyes and I saw the way you carried yourself that you’re not a happy person. And I think you need something. And if you want to call it a friend, you can call it a friend.

Betsy: Are you gonna be my friend?

Travis Bickle: Yeah. – Taxi Driver

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