THE VIADUCT

Beneath taut bellies our stragging township lurks.
Stone limbs stretch tall above the tree tops,

straddling road and river with geometric shadow;

thrusting the stranger into our midst through arches filled with scenery.

Other Worlds hide in the chiselled patterns,

of silver etched with yellow,

worked by men long dead

whose idling pride

rests on the air above their memorial

then revvs into sifted nothing;

saddling the sky.
 

Mary R.Crowther. 1970.