Maurice Prendergast's Pont delia Paglia

Maurice Prendergast's Pont delia Paglia

is just the first of many bridges
in life, like the crosses one must bear,
like the promises we all make
to break or keep. In the mid-day glare
of the sun, the parasols unfurl
into many-colored roses. Sun hats
and bonnets bloom cheerfully beside
them. Men and women find their way past
the triumphal arch of the bridge's
rigid span. Skirts skim above the terraced
steps and cobblestones. Beyond them lies
another such hurdle. Some have graced
this path more than once, their yesterdays
hurrying into their futures. One
woman only remains, vague, formless,
a charcoal plan of what I would become.