Suspension cables
Giant harp strings
Slung into service
With no song to be heard
Wafting odor
Ocassional stench mixed
With oil and smog
Trudging onward in the morning
In observance of fog floating
Others who walk beside me
Soem are out in front
While others are behind
Refusal to make eye contact
In the shadow of the bridge
A relic of beauty
Supporting all that cross over
Whom take its presence for granted
Dwarfed by the city of its birth
Naked skyscrapers looming
Headlights serving as thousands of eyes
All crying in the congestion
Winking traffic lights
Switching from red to amber to green
It moves slowly in the noise
The giant harp strings never tremble
Only when realization creeps in
Is the desire to retreat evident
Into the safety of the bridge
That leads to roads in both directions
~Moses~
© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
