The slant light at sunset
Parses brick and shadow
As if they’d never met,
As if they didn’t know
They are one and the same,
Congeries with one name.
That name is fire, and fire.
The bridge rises higher
To suspend fire and wire,
Reaching from sand to mire.
So old the paint and brick,
Cooling the shadow’s wick.
All these make sun insane,
Absent mist, fog, or rain.
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