West Gate, the city, the bay

there are other
newer bridges
but it is West Gate
that is Melbourne

this night
the red lights are flashing
to slow traffic
between raised central spires
that climb into the sky
almost vanishing
a periodic pinpoint
and ward for stray flyers

at the apex
I can see to Frankston
perhaps beyond
it is eighty kilometers around
but it is mine to claim
with a glance

so many lights
this city is a universe
of star twinkles at ground level
doubled by reflection
and I am above them all

blues and yellows and reds
neon signs larger
taller brightnesses
intruded upon symmetry
until the gaze slips by St Kilda

around the curve
almost flying above ground
or short-cut skipping
across the stilled waters
of the bay
to alight momentarily
at Black Rock
Portsea a fade beyond

drive slowly
from here you might see
the pulse of my city

© Frank Prem, 2002

5 thoughts on “West Gate, the city, the bay

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