Writings and Witterings

The Black Bridge—Coeur Noir


Coeur Noir

Shabby pile of bones
under a black bridge.
You were found out;
talked to the hawk,
or a murder of crows.

The shapes in white body suits,
blue overshoes,
said ‘unmistakable odour,’
‘caustic’ was overheard;
forensics disclosed
burned flesh.

Maybe your first,
who found you
in flagrante,
set you up,
or the second, the witness,
who could not bear
to believe.

Selfish, faithless,
you are alone.
The black bridge won’t help,
it mocks;
celebrates bones,
Coeur Noir,
parched bones,
bones never to be grieved,
beneath the bridge.

Polly Stretton © 2018


7 thoughts on “The Black Bridge—Coeur Noir

  1. Now there is a powerful poem

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I was with you in that poem. I am mad about old stone bridges and they do encourage one to write. Fortunately, there is one in view from my window where I am seated at the computer… 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • How wonderful to have a view of a bridge from your writing seat…I’m moving house soon, and will have a view over the countryside, so excited! 😀 x

      Liked by 1 person

      • Hmmm, all we have here is a river, many trees, bridges, a chateau, vineyards… It is tough Polly but someone has to live like this. 😉 I’ve no doubt Mable will be a lot of help and investigate everything for you. x

        Liked by 1 person

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