John Grey



ALWAYS IN THE SHADOW OF THE BRIDGE

Loneliness is a cantilever bridge.
Eating alone is a pontoon,
Unwanted must be the draw or the suspension.
Six weeks with a shrink
equals one quiet walk across
a connecting passage
with a wind ruffling the hair
and a river below
constantly flinging itself at some rocks.
Mornings, the insufficiency
is clogged with traffic.
Late night, there's just an occasional headlamp
to infiltrate the void.
From a distance, I can cry
light and shape and height.
Up close, my tears are rust and cold.
I've learned an unimpressive life
can still be one end of a bascule
with a grand or humble bridge
as the other.
Yes, bridge is also a game,
one of the paradoxes of the English language.
By myself, I just play solitaire.
Mostly I lose
and occasionally I'm the one I lose to.


John Grey's latest book is What Else Is There from Main Street Rag. His work has been published recently in Agni, Hubbub, South Carolina Review and The Journal Of The American Medical Association.









                                    

 

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