the error

Gazing at the waters
flowing down the bridge
I sense a hook pulling
me down towards it

there's a side in me
that wants it to end
I guess

I desert my view and
walk away

looking at the bird
in rehearsed dismay
biting its reflection
on my window
how futile
would it not know

is the commonality of
the blow

I look at my time and place
where there is none
an empty hole
infinitely in search of
somewhere to go
in a moment that stays
a flow that doesn't
pull me down
to be at peace with
the self that doesn't fight
in the middle of the waters
flowing, and flowing in a race
the image insecure with the
contemplation of the mirror
beyond time, outside space