Roebling Suspension Bridge
Cincinnati Above myriad purple martens wheeling from shore to wharf before night falls over thin fog, a solitary raven floats -- reading air currents as cicadas years, as bats read waves -- hovering round and round your center, a fixed circle forming a black sun winging above and between, and in such silent sound marking with your catenating curve a fermata which holds Ohio and Kentucky, which holds within that which we move across to become, which holds, like the seeds in raven's winged tomb waiting, what we might most nearly be in the final light. John B. Kryder Poems |