Bridges

Sometimes I wish I could stand at a windy bridge,
And let my hair loose,
And let the stars, like so many thousands of sentinals,
Tell me how to feel.
They would disrobe in the dark
Smile at me and say,
"Even your keel,
Take the road,
Leave your sorrows,
Drop your load."
Though, then, even then,
I may cry
That they know so much better than I.
How they are floating but well employed
And I am just a speck of dust
Standing on a bridge.