Etched

At this hour of night
Leaned over the bridge
The river is that place
Where two banks never meet

The old bikes and trolleys
Gone the way of stars
Bitten by a singularity

This is how the universe speaks
In weak knees
And stomach lurching
The love of the fear
Of the love of falling
Look, somebody’s scratched
In the cold steel railing:
“I woz ere, so woz you”

I think I may have etched that
On some Summer eve
In the low of the moon
I think I may have etched that
When I was younger
And it was true

At this hour of night
Leaned over the edge
The mechanical click of the walk
Don't walk at the lights
It's ritual an echo
Stitching our breaths
Even when there’s
Nobody there

This is how the universe speaks
In hold please
Hold on to something
The love of the fall,
The fear of the loving
Look, somebody’s scratched
In the rust of the railing:
“Rest in peace, Break on through”

I think I may have etched that
On some Summers eve
In a winter's mood
I think I may have etched that
When I was younger
And it could be true

~ Brendan Bonsack 2024