You Elevate Ants

There's a bridge that
Reaches its thin finger
Over The Thames,
Graciously, selflessly,
Elevanting ants like me.
I'm alone, a speck in the eye
Of this diseased city
Breathing in quasi-fresh air
Blowing across muddy water.
I pause, turn sideways and
Lean against the silvery edge.
A sky full of promise
Of brighter times looms
Over building-block streets.
Skylight, not-quite-sunlight,
Echoes underneath pinafore-grey irises,
And for twenty-six seconds
Stillness graces my thoughts.