“And now I cannot remember how I would
have had it. It is not a conduit (confluence?) but a place.
The place, of movement and an order.
The place of old order.
But the tail end of the movement is new.
Driving us to say what we are thinking.
It is so much like a beach after all, where you stand
and think of going no further.
And it is good when you get to no further.
It is like a reason that picks you up and
places you where you always wanted to be.
This far, it is fair to be crossing, to have crossed.
Then there is no promise in the other.
Here it is. Steel and air, a mottled presence,
small panacea
and lucky for us.
And then it got very cool.”
“
| — | John Ashbery Poem printed across the lean steel bars of the pedestrian bridge that spans Hennepin Avenue not far from my house…. Every time I walk across it I lean my head back and read the words silently, enjoying this poem that says so much with so little and was penned just for us. I always loved the crescendo of “Here it is. Steel and air.” It feels like a throwing down. A celebration… |
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