"City Bridges" by Allan Johnston

A train glimmering, rising from

the pedestrian light;

a dance in the weighted

song of work. 
                        If we link

exchange to promise,

would we unfurl

some banner

or a bright marquee
advertising compromise?

Between the head and the heart,
the weight of bright grid iron,
stands the gate to a still, blue bay
and bright, animate air ashine
in the trellis where feelings,
thoughts ensnare in the crisp wind
from the world at each height.
and gold moment’s monument;

sunlight plugs its change and charm. 
What is beyond creation? 
What few emancipations
anoint moments of seeing? 
Find your own breast; you have found
quixotic Spains of patterns.

Still, beyond, all you have hoped:
The city’s gleaming stitches,
the way each structure evokes
a need to cross the water,
then eases down into dream.
Water, the cross-roads, the bridge:
all underlie the planning,

the meaning and need,

the meeting of tribes,

 

traders who bring seashells

and immaculate gems,
the sacks of ripening seed
and fruit, the dressed, dried corpses:

these sinews mark the bridges to meetings,

thinking, reaching a bargain, spirited

air of concourse, the flesh and soul
uniting in this compact
of mud, water, the hard rock,
the refinement of iron,
the lifting over the bright bay

into the crenellated sunset

of the city rising

from destruction and creation,
the dance of impermanence
held still enough this moment.

It lets us enjoy the view.