Bridge by John Grey

You hold steady,
as wind buffets and swings your cables,
thunder shudders pillars,
lightning streaks for your highest tower,
currents batter concrete roots.

Then you watch
while storm clouds blow away,
and gradually city’s skeleton
fills out with steel and glass.

The same splattering shadowy gulf that plagued you –
merely suspends you over brown water.
The heart, though built on shafts of sweat and death,
braces, doesn’t plummet.

You gently sway over wharves, salvage yards.

A quiet breeze approves the flying banner of your backbone.

©2017 John Grey


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John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in the Tau, Studio One and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Leading Edge, Examined Life Journal and Midwest Quarterly.


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