Bridges

Resting at evening on the forsaken pier
we saw the bridges mounting the dark sky,
a brave ascent. We felt peace then
not of mystery but the deep gladness
that the hope was there.
Nothing that factories meant could assail us
or burnt wheatfields or the club
descending. Our lives were like
these bridges, making a path
over this night of terror and despair.

Structure

10 lines · 2 stanzas