Turia Bridge (after John Clare)

Hello river, my old friend
I cross above you at day’s end
As my work begins,
The night does fall
And I wonder about the point of it all
For like you, river, I am running daily
And where I reach it never fails me
My joys I must often compromise,
But you, dear friend, are a balm for my eyes.

(This is from December 2019, when of course, I actually did cross the bridge to get to work, and when I was particularly enjoying the work of English nature poet John Clare)

A Wednesday night in Spain

  
The lone walker on the bridge

Feels the cold shoulder of the breeze

He shuffles further from the edge, 

And muffles an uninvited sneeze.

The city shivers in the pre-spring chill, 

Failing to cope with change in clime.

The winds continue, the traffic still

The night time is the hardest time