It used to be so full in here
Until a while ago.
There was another presence here;
I can't remember who.
A sharing of a plastic bridge,
A glass owl, or some sand.
But now they're all my own to have;
All mine, this watery land.
It's always been like this in here,
But always isn't long...
Is that a bridge I see just there?
That's new, if I'm not wrong...
Owen S. Dunn, October 1995.