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Composed upon Hammersmith Bridge, September 3rd, 2002
This green and gold bridge is one of the marvels of the West
- with its golden bolts, its solar stars, its ziggurats -
dragoning from bank to bank, lithe reptile, harnessed

by the scales and by the spine in bondage to the healing arts.

The very name - bridge - links itself to the Celtic goddess:

Brid. Her spirit is in Hammersmith, her trinity of hearts

imploring the poet, the healer and the blacksmith to test
their atavism, their alchemy in this city of technocrats.
The sun comes out above the borough. A change of light
illumines the grey cruciform of Charing Cross Hospital,

making it glow as if it were some moonbase or satellite

where dream-cures are mediated in colour to one and all...
a superstructural multiplex of drums and night-flight,
a green and gold stage on which we bow for the curtain call.
Niall McDevitt
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