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the curb lane closed
we crested the bridge
and stopped in the rain
warning lights and
workmen in darkness
slashed by halogen
a freighter slid beneath us
Are you my friend?
she asked
suspended in space
i fear the fall
of a deeper abyss
the bridge ahead
seems to clear
we move forward
the smoking flagwoman
waves us by
with a
SLOW!
SLOW!
SLOW!