alfie lee writing



i come from this place
where bridges all
are rusted through by salt sea

sieges, the winds are too kind
to hold them up but
their patience is quickly running

out, the heads of clouds greatly gathering,
darken, curl and furrowing
still, they'll do their best to keep

their word, they'll never
see the sea get hurt, they'll never be
broken up, they'll shape

the waves, gentle lees, unraveling
tales of tides in spring, of under-
tows, white winter's wing, they'll beach

upon the shores and sing
of mending breaches, breaking struts,
hoist prayer flags on sunken

masts and sail to the lost,
adrift, casually cast,
with unwavering faith in a weathered craft,

it's enough, to know these
bridges, that i trust, i must
come from this place.


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