pax
ONE love, blood, life
Years ago, you learned to build bridges.
Math and ambition worked between stone and concrete
to join what was separate, to cross
and stay dry. I like to imagine you this way, when
distance, in your mind, was simply a problem to be solved.
You tell me: I can take you anywhere in my country
and show you my work, still standing today.
I want to see you work.
I want to see your calculations, your predictions.
I want to run my fingers across your blueprints,
feel the way the pencil impresses the paper,
learn how all the pieces fit together.
It will pass the time until the union men finish,
until a new bridge spans old water.
Math and ambition worked between stone and concrete
to join what was separate, to cross
and stay dry. I like to imagine you this way, when
distance, in your mind, was simply a problem to be solved.
You tell me: I can take you anywhere in my country
and show you my work, still standing today.
I want to see you work.
I want to see your calculations, your predictions.
I want to run my fingers across your blueprints,
feel the way the pencil impresses the paper,
learn how all the pieces fit together.
It will pass the time until the union men finish,
until a new bridge spans old water.
