The Penny Bridge, West Float

The road ran steeply down to the
sluggish water that waited
for a ship: as I did,
but it was patient.
I was pushing 5 with all my might
and seeing a boat rounding the float, I ran,
as I ran everywhere, pell-mell,
heedless of my Mother’s shouts.
Only the sight of my Father stopped me,
waving, all black and gold buttons,
from the hut by the bridge
that was my toy today.
Squat and lopsided, it
hulked above me:
a latticed beetle, snug in its husk,
expectant.
The ship was imminent and I was
lifted up to grab the lever,
so big in my tiny hands, so
small to move so much metal.