Bridging Bajiang's Embankments

Watch a ride across the wood bridge here

Two bike bridges across shallow estuary water  
the sea salt flows into the steppe of Alishan
From Fengqihu where eight fingers stream into one
To funky flatlands meandering down through Chiayi
In wild weeds overgrown from the last rainy date 
a bird flies shyly with no more than a song 
from a dried tree with nothing much to fawn
an egret stands in muck wondering where to look
but the smell of an ah-ma's fragrant garden invites him to drink nectar from her spine
and I too feel refreshed on this bike path bench
on the brink of fording muddy waters
thirsting for a drench of plum rain showers
when the deluge swallowd all in a cinch 
and typhoon rains will pound it like a fist
Whipping winds across the bridges' suspensions
their anchorages in danger of being dislodged again 
or moving not an inch of span reconnected 
as I am starting to make ends meet
till the time when it is no longer hers or mine 
but weighed discreetly on two bridge paths 
one of wood, one cement
under feet and bicycle wheels
between Bajiang's embankments 

April 6, 2021

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