Walker is eastern red cedar
sanded and polished
to the smoothness of silk
by lanternlight
with a little turpentine and wax
and, finally,
~ caressed ~
lamb's wool in hand
until he developed
a glow.
It was a one-lane, steel structure providing access between Uptown, on the north side of the river, and it's lowly suburb, Mound Park, on the south. Built sturdy, it was a mass of steel girders riveted together into an elongated box. We lived sometimes Uptown, in the old rooming house, most of the time in Mound Park, just east of the town dump.
In my elementary years we'd walk to school every day across that 60 foot span. Once, when spring floods had swollen the river and bathed the bridge in a lake of fast-moving water, we were lifted, one-by-one, into the back of a county dump truck and driven through the water to our daily employment. We were terrified, and yet proud with the realization of our importance, to be transported in such an novel fashion.
My older brother was entranced by the steel structure that was the bridge. On moonlit nights he and his friends would dare, and double-dog-dare and single-file shimmy up the diagonal brace to the top of the span. Then, high above the moving waters, like circus performers, they'd walk the beams to the Uptown side.
On Halloween they hung a straw-filled body from the steel just high enough so ketchup-soaked socks could greet oncoming windshields.
Back then, under the bridge and along both sides leading up to it, the riverbank grew tall with ragweed and marshgrass and nettles. I spent a thick slice of my childhood there, beneath the bridge, alongside the river, creating hidden pathways and secret rooms. I planned to live there, alongside the river, the rest of my life.
The steel overhead bridge was replaced years ago by a mundane concrete span. And recently, in a desire to encourage tourism, town legislators have begun to manicure the grasses alongside the river.
I'm glad I changed my plans.
I soak up the northeast sky
blue as his eyes.
The realization startles me.
And then a smile
replaces quickened breath
relaxes me again
releases me
reminds me
it's a memory
To keep for all time.
Sublime,
in its permanence.
