Monday, January 5, 2015

From the Brooklyn Side

From the Brooklyn Side

The dusk climbed behind me
as motorists and pedestrians
moved steadily west and east
across the Williamsburg Bridge.
They traversed the grey steel,
above the flood and ebb-tides,
in a ritual as old as the city.

Below, the East River roiled;
a rough mix from the tail waters
of Harlem and the Bronx Kill.

From the apex of the bridge
I watched the sun burn down
the Manhattan skyline and
slowly drown in the Hudson.
I recalled the Whitman poem
and felt the ties between us.  

In the distance, the gray walls
of granite and glass loomed;
today and a hundred years hence



Christopher Kerry Scott Sophie Johnson said...

love this.

Fatiha Kabena Storm Snyder Brothers said...

a bridge,
century old and story revealing.

sharp write.

Maggie Patti Barbara Frankford-Shapirol said...

williamsburger bridge and busy moving crowds.

lots of concrete imagery here.

beautiful entry.

Thor Smith said...

I almost could hear the traffic and smell the East River. Well written poem.

Anjum Wasim Dar said...

full of history and imagery of antiquity

Malia Butterfly Detroit Lawrence Page said...

amazing write,
the sound, smell, sights, and other concrete noises make the poem live.

glad to see Brooklyn Side.

Maggie Jean said...

Now this is poetry. Love it.

Amelia Googles Sharon-Stein Wilson said...

sunset, and city crowds.
profound imagery.

oceanwavesinblue said...

love the details,
I feel the places.

Lord Emmanuel said...

What a vivid imagination you have. Well done.


Larry Hasty Wendy Stanley Wojcicki said...

awesome imagination.

Catie Mead Williams Handcock Robinson said...

a poem filled with fibers and muscles. rich content and lovely imagination.

Miriam Sagan said...

Like the painting/poetry combo

Layne Gerald Wade Cutts Hansen said...

concrete and skillful poem imagery.

Stephan Peter Carl Victor Hudson said...

reality and abstract thinking combine,
that's life.

well done piece.

Benji Barratt Clark Twohill Sullivan said...

writing is an adventure.

Anonymous said...

"today and a hundred years hence". love this line

Amelia Googles Sharon-Stein Wilson said...

an award for you,