Coot-tha’s sensual curves,
Are bathed in the golden evening glow,
While the shadows of the riverbanks trees,
Dance on the silent, sluggish river.
Discussing the day in the Eucalypts,
The lorikeets spoil the peace.
Not solely a physical bridge, this,
Are bathed in the golden evening glow,
While the shadows of the riverbanks trees,
Dance on the silent, sluggish river.
Discussing the day in the Eucalypts,
The lorikeets spoil the peace.
Not solely a physical bridge, this,
Connecting a city,
But a metaphorical bridge rather,
But a metaphorical bridge rather,
showing the way.
Coot-tha’s sensual curves suffused in the last of the days light,
While hundreds of stars glow in the inky night.
A strange sliver of a moon peeks under an eclipse,
While lights dance on the river in nightly bliss.
The lights of the bridge lead not only the way,
But are also examples of a bright and better day.
While hundreds of stars glow in the inky night.
A strange sliver of a moon peeks under an eclipse,
While lights dance on the river in nightly bliss.
The lights of the bridge lead not only the way,
But are also examples of a bright and better day.
I wrote this poem in 2010 one night after crossing the Greenbridge in Brisbane, Australia, from my university to the residential area on the other side.
Nearby Mt Coot-tha (pronounced Coo-tha) was lit up be the setting sun and looking magical.
What do you think, and which do you prefer? How could I tighten the poem?