Bridge
Over my water. There's a wobbly bridge
Over the water, underneath me
There's a wobbly note
That plays
From the cracks underneath me
A gull flies
and a ferry blows its boats, hard and sharp
All beneath me
I am as cross
As the smoggy waters. The waters, the face of the city
are rushed, angry and washed over
And on the wobbly bridge I count my steps:
One
For the mad woman of poetry
Two
For the homeless man in the red cape, hugging a dog for warmth
Three
For the acrylic brush that painted my desires: rain, warmth and an orange horizon
Four
For undiscovered nooks: stations, corners, bread and ice-cream
Five
For pieces of a grand puzzle:: me, you, we, they, us
Six
For the carbon copy faces: crisp, tired and full of tide
Seven
For the other side of everything.
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