Her Burden Doesn’t Go Silently into the Civil Dawn

It was not my choice
to collapse, says
the bridge in pieces
on the west

bank. A strip
of purple light
strikes a pose
across her face. And

she wonders
how it feels to drop

guilt so easily
on vacant land.

Upper Mississippi Tone (Day 2,426: Take 2)

On a grayscale
from blizzard to moonless
night, she rates you scattered
clouds and the smiling bright
new 35W Bridge.