Overture

Understanding

Standing under a bridge, you are blind, eyelids sutured

over iris by the smooth, starless underbelly

of infrastructure
that protects perception

from possibility, cages mischievous magpies

of creativity
in mud. An unknown

lunar voice gleams like lamplight. Listen

for the moon’s monthly melody

serenading sheen ‘cross a cobblestone road:

its beam will beckon
your vision’s transgression—

climb atop the bridge
to yowl aubades that jailbreak

into an upside-down verse of understanding.

— Antonia Facciponte, To Make a Bridge