The Bridge by Mark O'Leary

The Bridge
In pensive sooth we traverse stari most,
I contemplate the littoral adriatic coast
Abutments of limestone linking wing walls,
Neretva, Una, Drina, Dinaric Cluster calls.

The keepers of the bridge, Tenelia fine grain,
Halebija to Tara, inveterate Balkan rain
Rainbow arch soaring up to the skies,
Pars pro toto, to the bridge of sighs.

Twice removed from yesterday, cobblestone arch,
In the interstices a farrago of stone as we march,
Copper bronze etchings, portraits, pomegranates,
Boscovich pricipia, six chants of the planets.

Šantić, lacrymae, sevdalinka Emina kafanas,
Garden, baths, fountains, flowers and faunas,
Pallas, thy aegis, perched upon stygian shore
Pray tell me Athena, prehensile oracle of four.

Halcyon, avuncular, attraverso il ponte, diverge,
Pellucid tributaries, confluence, ebb and flow, then merge

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