(First line from the radio)
Plans for the bridge are still up in the air,
printed on the blueprint of the sky
like jet trails bending into curves that get
more graceful as they grow fainter,
until at their most exquisite they disappear
before we can get them down on paper,
our idea of the bridge always more beautiful
than anything we might actually build.
And yet there has to be a way to bring it
down to earth if we are ever going to be able
to cross from here to there, even if something
is lost in transit, because we don’t live
in some vaporous sphere but down here
where the air we breathe also makes things rust.