Hot Metal Bridge

Current Issue : Number Twenty-Five

How I Crossed

BY COLLEEN COYNE

I know the gate latched shut behind us.

I get to the bridge and shy. Throw my rider.

If you were my rider, where would you have me take you?

*

A warning hangs from the tree’s rough curve—the hive’s buzzing circuit.

I move but shouldn’t outrun the bees.

If ever there were reasons to burn your hair. A swarm of suns.

Some of which beg to be caught and eaten.

*

This is the place to cross, to duck under, to climb atop.

What trips us up: whitewater eddies or honey, sticks or stingers.

Proceed with caution.

From the other side, I hear you humming. Tossing your hair.

 

 



Colleen Coyne lives in Massachusetts, where she teaches writing and works as a freelance writer and editor. She is the author of Girls Mistaken for Ghosts (forthcoming from dancing girl press), and her work has appeared in Hayden’s Ferry Review, Crab Orchard Review, Cream City Review, Handsome, alice blue, Women’s Studies Quarterly, Drunken Boat, and elsewhere.