Steel Weight

The railway bridge groans low,

a metal sigh

under the evening train.

I cross it every day,

this spine of rust and doubt,

carrying its heavy load.

Below, the river flows,

indifferent, dark.

Above, the tracks are laid,

a path that leads somewhere,

or nowhere new.

A pigeon sits, unbothered,

perched on a girder’s bend,

watching the world go by,

from its own strange, sturdy stand.