Golden

He cut through the streets, eyes upturned

A small patch of sky looked down on him

Through baskets they weave so thickly

He saw on a sea

Alone in the clouds

A rusty old bridge

Was jailed in his mind

He thought it was golden

It swayed to his breath

And creaked with the bolts

He unpacked his coat

And laid down

With somebody's shoes he traveled

Between the two ends of his bridge

He learned all the holes to crawl in

And stayed for the time

When winds too cold

The rats that could march

Whispered in his ear

He knew it meant something

But nobody came

He sat through the nights

And watched all the darkness

It spread with his breath

And pushed back the sky

He stayed for the days

On his home

A rusty old bridge

Would scream in his mind

He thought it was golden