A woman sits under a bridge - her head is turned toward the pallor of a street lamp - her feet are bare - one foot rocks gently in tune with the calm river beneath - her age is not discernible and is of no interest to the lamp or the water - she is neither happy or sad with her life - but you can see just the smallest of grins - if you asked her to speak of her day and why she smiles at the light - she would not answer straight away - instead she would point to a spot beyond the lamp - you look yourself but only see the dark shroud of starless skies blotted out by the city lights - you cant see it she asks - I can see a whole moon beyond that pale dome tonight -
I cannot leave my place for I am made into a bridge - to tame the ambitious water - and be content to watch the sun dance or clouds play upon the harmonies of the river - yet on the nights the moon bares itself - I can see one thing more casting different shadows - revealing a world in other faces - it pulls the water closer so my toes kiss its lips - its not much for a woman carved into stone - to be admired rather than lived - silent behind walls - its the rebellion of the moon to conquer night - the lidless windows - dazzling sun - museums of street lamps - it simply reminds me there are other things which need to dance upon moonlit streams - even if the eloquent sun disagrees with me
Clare L Rolfe @ 2020
Photo CL Rolfe - Le Pont Des Invalides - sculpture - Le Victoire Navale ( the Maritime Victory by Georges Diébolt ) Paris