Boy On the Bridge

The boy on the bridge. At the hospital, I woke up in the night got up, walked into a hall I didn’t recognize A nurse came and told me to go back to bed “My father told me to stay here,” I said I knew it was in a dream, a poem I had read many years ago, when I could remember with clarity what I read. In the morning, waiting for breakfast, coffee and a scone, a nurse was busy sticking needles into me. I tried to remember the title of the poem “The boy on the burning bridge?.”