Laurin Wolf has an MFA from Kent State University and BA from the University of Pittsburgh in poetry writing. Her previous chapbook about staying in was published by Finishing Line Press in 2018. Her poems have appeared in Pittsburgh Poetry Review, PoetsArtists, Rune, Scholars & Rogues, PMS, Pittsburgh’s City Paper, and Two Review. Her book reviews have appeared in Whiskey Island. Formerly, she hosted the monthly reading series MadFridays and guest hosted the radio show Prosody on WESA, Pittsburgh. Episodes are archived on www.prosodyradio.com. She teaches writing at Rhodes State College in Lima, Ohio.
Something About Bridges
The curve of the McKees Rocks Bridge
tilts ever so gently against the skyline.
To get anywhere, I have to crisscross rivers.
Diving through the Fort Pitt tunnel,
the city’s skyscrapers break the horizon.
It’s the most beautiful surprise of skyline.
On the inbound deck of the Fort Pitt Bridge,
Pittsburgh beckons my demons to jump
into the icy Monongahela and free me
from the curse of geography—a body wanting more.
Outbound, I switch lanes to avoid the tunnel,
and race the Ohio River parallel until I reach
the railroad tracks and home.
I walk the sidewalk of the Andy Warhol Bridge
toward the open arms of Heinz Field,
whose empty stands welcome
even in the off season. I wonder what
it’s like to fall, hit the water, or better yet
walk across it. I settle on the shifting
oars of rowers on the morning tide
struggling to navigate the mist and breeze.
I love these waters too—the ride over
and back, dozens of times a day. Even when
I’m terrified of the vibrations,
stalled in traffic, the hiccup of concrete
and steel, the bridges remind me:
I share this landscape with something unpredictable.
Something that could tumble or crack open any second.