Stan Petrovich (10/27/1950 / Fort Riley, KS)
A Sad Bridge In Eastern Europe
In a Slavic city,
Unpronouncable, on a concrete bridge,
Spanning churning gray water,
Smokestacks on the shrore belching yellow fumes.
Peering over an English paper
I saw her and we locked eyes.
She joined me on the bench:
'All alone? ' she asked.
Then we exchanged pleasantries
That soon, so soon, became profound.
Of course it began to rain.
We held hands and trotted off the bridge.
Here she told
me she had to return to work,
Home or boarding-house.
It was predestined, my loneliness, for why else was I here.
Walking the drizzling streets,
Crowded with gray brick buildings,
impossible Complex corners,
I wandered for hours,
Just needing a hand to hold.
Comments about this poem (A Sad Bridge In Eastern Europe by Stan Petrovich )
People who read Stan Petrovich also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings