THURSDAY 14th MAY 2009.

Six bridges
There and back
To attract my attention
From the road to the water below
Their peaks, and appeal to my weaknesses.

Low slung
Between the keen
Surfaces the street’s pace
Manages its anger in order to
Avoid drawing drowning noise from me.

Though so
Stooped no loop
Has laced itself or cast a
Shadow over my lowered head,
And will not thrill me with its making:

A bit grizzly
I may be but lately
More thoughts of shore
Have welled than dwelling
On the underside of sorrel tides;

Pensive men
Have often craved
A thought from water’s
Source without recourse to
Muddying its many puddles.