The Bridges

The Bridges

Skies
the gray of crystal.

A strange design of bridges,

some straight, some arched,

others descending at oblique angles to the first;

and these figures recurring

in other lighted circuits of the canal,

but all so long and light that the banks,

laden with domes, sink and shrink.

A few of these bridges

are still covered with hovels,

others support polls,

signals, frail parapets.

Minor chords cross

each other and disappear;

ropes rise from the shore.

One can make out a red coat,

possibly other costumes

and musical instruments.

Are these popular tunes,

snatches of seigniorial concerts,

remnants of public hymns?

The water is gray and blue,

wide as an arm of the sea.

A white ray falling from high

in the sky destroys this comedy.