The Narrows Bridge
Slumped quietly in my seat
trains clack in my ears
I am hard pressed
lens at the window
across this crazy morning
water a deep Cerulean
hard soft
I see her
the metal hulk
sturdy tough mother
in iron skirts
She is so important
towering over Puget Sound
with her eyes on the hard chop
waves washing tiny boats
holding hopeful fisherman
gently around her ankles
She counts the fish
I dare you to take dinner from my feet
and I want the perfect shot
the perfect light
and she knows nothing of me
of my pounding head
or the story I am
She will stand here in the inlet
watching lines and nets
carrying cars
swaying in the wind
long after I have taken the last train
had one too many beers the night before
and the roll is fully exposed.
