Sunday, August 19, 2012
Under Windsor Bridge/ 1912/ Adolphe Valette
THANKS, Tess, at Magpie Tales....
WINDSOR TOWN BRIDGE/ JACK
He rests against an arch of the town bridge.
Each night getting behind the wind,
waiting to pick out an approaching shape.
The rough granite
scrapes a stain across his back.
He prepares to shift
into his dream of flight.
A huge raven tonight,
more astonishing than a phantom,
cymbals suddenly hum some one's ruin.
An intention carries him
into each shadowy night,
thunder imprints a fresh cry.
Did she hear him
when he breathed
Last night, when sleep sealed lids
shut at midnight,
she leaned against the rain
sloping into her face.
Why didn't she run away?
copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2012