a bridge, tomorrow, tomorrow

wooden planks, concrete span,
merge as one
ramp of duration
he spackles the sky, 
he takes an old brush to paint a new vision,
he covers disappointments with two coats,
some, bleed through
fatigued fog limps in, enemy of wire 
and steel,
blind termites of wood;
searched in his tattered pocket for
a crumpled map,
pulled out piles of paper with drawings
of imaginary cities
of imaginary people;
homeless man fishes from thirty stories
up, catches the soggy boot
then does the high dive,
limps to the still water
through fatigued fog,
soon to wear the silver wings
for bravery above and beyond,
his wife and child pick up
change that made it out
of tattered pockets, pay for 
the alley rent,
but not for the three r’s;
he bought the greyhound ticket,
inches up the flight of steps,
not enough change, homeless man’s
son charities the rest, 
he gets the window seat,
bus takes him back to the wooden planks
stood there staring at the cold
rising from the water’s surface,
policeman beat told him abruptly,
“move it along”
gideon man wearing a frown urges
him on,
gives him a bible with pages
carved out like a boy scout
knife carved out heart on a tree,
inside, a map,
then the holy man steps in front of
parked taxi waiting to be hit;
he steps on the wet, slippery wooden
waves lap over this bridge like a thirsty
dog laps an empty water bowl
holds the guard rail like chipping varnish
reluctantly holds onto wood
fatigued fog grabs his feet and ankles
like a roadside black and white
gang chained to prison life,
sing the work song; 
he unfolds the map, gideon man
plays the mouth harp,
‘onward christian’,
follows the footpath, but not the 
one of wire and steel,
coal smoke sky clears… 
Copyright © 04/04/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

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