Poem: I am sitting on the edge of a bridge

I am sitting on the edge of a bridge

that isn’t finished. Beneath me, a city

creases and the moon is almost big

enough to be noticed. There is

too much absence for me to remember

what is lost; it has been years

since I’ve been here to feed

the ducks, more since I was happy

to be that ignorant. Now, the birds are

all gone. The memories are migrating.

All my visits distil into my brother,

his bread-hand engulfed by

a pelican’s beak. Until then, I hadn’t

realised that I was the same; I also

craved what I should never have

been. Still, I know I am not enough

to be noticed, and maybe this is not

as bad as it seems. It has been decades

since this bridge was abandoned,

but it is still a monument that remains.

I wait for the city to flow downstream

into the dark, but it lies restless

for now. I tap the edge of the bridge,

and it dusts the river like breadcrumbs.

Martina Kontos lives in Adelaide. She has a Bachelor of Health and Medical Sciences majored in Neuroscience from the University of Adelaide, and her poetry, fiction and nonfiction has seen publication in journals and been shortlisted for prizes in Australia, the UK and US. More about Martina and her writing can be found at martinakontos.com, and on LinkedIn.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to [email protected]. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.