Usk Poem by Francie Lynch

That field stone bridge, as bridges do,
Waits over brown waters, joing roads where
Legions marching, marched on and on.
Her waters breached the ocean, bringing back
Bottles, birds and songs.

In the morning between the columns,
The water breaks from sloping bends,
But under the evening light, when the house
Across the bank shimmers,
They return - marching, dipping, flowing.

Time and time the ebb and flow disturbs ripples
In my mind.
Reflections change from foundations and windows;
Boots and birds go by
With the Usk to deeper water.
The same water, always.
My time here joins roads with the bridge I walk,
Feeling leather below my legs, as Legions did
Before the dig.
Their shields and spears resting, they bend over fires
And drink clear water that cleverly moves
In and out beneath the bridge.

These waters ripe in paradox keep days and nights still;
Where past and now meet in diurnal echoes.