This boardwalk is the only thing
separating me from you.
Its rotting wood is home to many, beetles, woodlice and worms.
At least they have a home.
They haven't been evicted, humiliated or betrayed.
The swamp below the boardwalk is full of life.
Fishes swim in the murky water and
frogs lay eggs.
At least they are settled not thrown into disrepair.
The moment you looked at that girl I knew it was over.
The kingfisher keeps a watchful eye on the water, diving in when an opportunity arises.
At least he can come and go.
You changed the locks and threw out my clothes.
Making room for your new woman,
I'm just a passing glance.
This boardwalk separates me from you.
It creaks and moans when I put my foot on it, as I move further along, water seeps onto the wood.
I want to move forward and get on with my life
but I must take a step back, create a new boardwalk,
one which doesn't lead to you.