One image the epidemic paints
Onto the old mind: a Roman bridge,
Intact and defaced, slowing
The brown flood below it. The old mind
Had a use for water and for the gods in it.
Waterborne or airborne, epidemic
Is a god defacing gods in flow.
It’s useless, as the bridge, sprayed
With obscenities, still stands.
I lay aside the book of bridges. The air
Outside of the book is a death toll
And a brown flood gathering speed.
Peace to all the peace there ever was. The
Bridgeway is a high-wire walk through weeds.
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