When the Bridge Opened

A tall ship came
The green metal middle of the bridge swung open
And all the traffic stopped.
Some sat idling
and some turned off their engines.

But we,
We got out and picked blackberries.
Fat shiny berries tasting of summer
Leaning on tiptoe with our hands inside the thorns
We went beneath the bridge
...where the shipyards are...
And stained our fingers purple.

And when the bridge swung closed
When the metal creaked and complained

and clicked into its place
The traffic moved on.

But we,

We did not return.
We stayed below
and picked blackberries.

1 comment:

Monster Library Student said...

So lovely Kt!

Amazing how you can lose yourself in something like collecting berries. I did that one day all over GF...through the woods and on Topside Knoll, with my hat hanging off my head and my hair tumbling sweatily onto my shoulders. I ended my hunt with such a sense of satisfaction.