Crossings

I am smoothly transitioning a bridge of still water. Mists have risen and there is fog on the bank I am approaching. It is a clear morning light, diffused and gray, in the leaden veil that is the sky. It is winter, the long and reaching branches frozen in black silhouette against the gray background. I am with someone as I cross further on the bridge, but who it is is unknown. I have a sense of the bridge, that it has a few long arcs of singular construction and ancient stone work. As I come to the other side, I see endless rows of headstones. It is a cemetery. The person I am with reveals only to my consciousness that she is female. I feel a lingering kiss on my cheek and am moved.