POETRY: Huxman Road Bridge

we came

every summer

wary in packs

thirdhand trucks

and gas crisis coupes

armed to the teeth

with mixtapes

made in our

rooms at night

spilling from doors

out onto the bridge

sunstriped pink

green water below

steadying breaths

then taking flight

our bodies

lithe and beautiful

like promises to be kept

or dreams

not yet disproven