I Walk the 12th Street Bridge

Walking the 12th Street Bridge
is disconcerting, perilous: the drop
some sixty feet to the ground,
fifteen- to twenty-foot tall spikes
of recently-cut trees perforating
the air beneath the bridge deck.
Every few feet I stop, look down.
I look over the side briefly
to avoid vertigo, to evade my fear
not of falling but of being pushed.
There’s no escaping this fear.
Defenestration is throwing
(or pushing) a person out a window;
what’s the term for throwing
(or pushing) a person off a bridge?
Wait — more than I need to know.
Fear, I’ve told you more
than I need to tell, more
than you need to know.
But the view!
An escape: name the fear, confront
the fear, walk through it, dare it away.
I cross the 12th Street Bridge
to safety, return to the comforts
of words and dictionaries.
The view was spectacular.


Andrew Shattuck McBride
NaPoWriMo 2014 ~ Day 12

About Andrew Shattuck McBride

I am a writer, editor, writing coach, and consultant. I work in a variety of genres, including poetry, short stories, and creative non-fiction. I also have a couple of novels simmering on back burners. THANK YOU to Nan Macy of Village Books for taking this photo (June 2011).
This entry was posted in Andrew Shattuck McBride Writer, NaPoWriMo ~ 2014, Notes on the Literary Life, Poets, Samples, Trail Offerings, Transformation. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to I Walk the 12th Street Bridge

  1. I like the back-and-forthness of the emotions here, between fear and reassurance, and admiration of the view. I appreciate the final response being of the view, in a strong ending line.

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