in the corner of my living room
David Bjorling
In the corner of my living room
sits, unnoticed,
a hunk of metal, replaced after forty years
of being used and seen by millions daily.
A part of history.
now just as useless
as a faded picture at a yard sale.
It reminds me, though, of home
and part of the grandeur
this tchotchke played
in the everyday life
of everyday people.
It’s just a four inch piece of metal.
Just one piece of the five hundred
metal ropes that held up
the Golden Gate Bridge.
No longer the longest
suspension bridge in the world.
sits, unnoticed,
a hunk of metal, replaced after forty years
of being used and seen by millions daily.
A part of history.
now just as useless
as a faded picture at a yard sale.
It reminds me, though, of home
and part of the grandeur
this tchotchke played
in the everyday life
of everyday people.
It’s just a four inch piece of metal.
Just one piece of the five hundred
metal ropes that held up
the Golden Gate Bridge.
No longer the longest
suspension bridge in the world.