When you doubt a friend, it’s like
putting a flame to the handrail
of a well-worn footbridge, smooth
and trusting, and waiting for fire to appear.
Soon the handrail is useless for holding
you steady; the flame of doubt spreads.
Travel the bridge only down the middle, as doubt
grows hotter and meaner, swallowing more bridge.
Behind you, your tiny flame has grown
to devour where you once walked safely.
Remembered footsteps are consumed by your doubt.
No turning back, the bridge crumbles to ash.
Quicken your steps to safety, off the footbridge,
thoughts of days of peaceful passing there.
But you put the flame to the bridge. Look back.
Ash and burned boards float past like old friends.
Talking to the Clouds 
Great insight in this poem. It is hard, sometimes, to know whether to trust and risk being duped or to not trust and end up being dumped! I vote to trust if it’s a special friend! New ones need more time…
Blessings ~ Wendy
I agree with everything you said! Thank you for reading and commenting.
Easier to destroy a bridge than build one, the banks get further apart inevitably. Don’t play with matches until you are sure … then keep walking.
This is a super piece about the power of friendships with a hint of the too-late regrets.
Well chosen pace and words.
Thank you. I’m glad you liked it. I wrote it with a heavy heart.
Thanks for visiting the Art Prescription. Powerful imagery here!
🙂
Beautiful and meaningful. I needed this metaphor to help me understand