Poem: The Foot Bridge

Look at them crossing the foot bridge
Dancing to the music in their skulls
With the hawks cresting overhead

And the clouds presenting one after the other
Like a Zen-slanted Constable exhibition
While the little lizards sun themselves poolside

No one drew it up like that no
It's just the confluence of discrete motivations
And that thing they call synchronicity 

I've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly today
And I wouldn't have it any other way
Would you no you wouldn't would you

M. Bogen
March 2024