Suspended | Poetry Under a Bridge

This summer, we discovered that we could walk under the northern end of the Golden Gate bridge. The area is basically a construction zone (retrofitting the bridge for earthquake durability) so not many people venture down there. Standing with my family beneath the bridge, the thunderous sound of cars and trucks barreling over our heads, nothing but a chainlink fence to stop us from falling… it was all kind of terrifying but, you know, in an exhilarating sort of way. Later that night, as I scrolled through my photos, I thought this one captured the magnificence and desolation, glory and isolation, of that place…and of my heart…which in the end became a poem. (To my friends who already saw this on social media a few weeks ago: sorry for the repeat, just getting round to posting on my blog now.)

Taken with my iPhone 6 beneath the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge

Suspended 

Under a bridge
With the weight of a thousand worlds rolling over me
Tires banging
Engines rumbling
The earth beneath us cold and crumbling
I hide
Finding comfort in the fear
Of a forgotten place
Neglected
Unadorned, the loneliness of hearts reflected
Like eyes
That can’t unsee the desolation
Of the days
The suffocation of her blazing fire
Here
Behind the chains
Looking out at what I cannot cross
Feels an awful lot
Like home

©Nichole Q Perreault

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