Perception

I fell off the bridge. The water was cold,

and I thought I might drown, but I didn’t.

I climbed back up and stood, sopping wet,

in the middle of the road. Traffic whipped past,

as urgent and driven as ever.

It was the same as before. Some vehicles

veered wide, others tried to swipe at me

as they zoomed past. Some slowed,

like a girl, my Lord, in a flat-bed Ford,

to get a look at me. No one noticed

that I was different. Whatever map I

was following had vanished in the churning

cold of the river. I was lost, even though

I still knew the way.