Bridges and Chimneys

If you walk up the stairwell and lift the latch

you can sit by the chimney pots and look out

at the trains going over the railways bridge

so far in the distance while you can touch

the mismatched bricks in need of repairing and when you walk

up the hill along the public footpath you get so high

you can see all the chimenys and bridges of the town

life's most beautiful things are always functional

like wells, or nests, or noses.

People are driving over bridges to see loved ones.

Smoke comes out of the chimneys

kindling and cross-legged children around the fireplace

protected from the wind and rain.

There is nowhere more cosy than these tenements

on the roofs are aerials and telephone wires 

patchworks of bricks and tiles.

Birds perch on chimneys then soar

like a standing ovation over the arc of the bridge

higher than the tips of the industrial chimneys

that stand there like statues of Hollywood greats

like stories of grandparents

like the one friend in your group who has no cynicism.

But there is darkness and dampness underneath the bridges

eroding chimneys in need of repairing.

and on that hill life is complicated and simple

blueprints of architectural drawings of bridges

a wax crayon house. Four windows. A front door.

Flowers in the garden and a chimney.