Washington Ave Bridge 

I walked on the wrong side 

of the Washington Ave. Bridge to see a wall 

never to be built, 

Covered in movement art,

in cool sunlight of a warm 

day just because. 

Why not? For me, by myself, 

no one to change that, 

going east and who knows where else. 

Counter, kind of backwards, 

Where there is no need to fret. 

Where all bets are undecided.

And he asked, how’s it going?

Good. And trying to keep warm. 


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