The s-curve of the McKees Rocks Bridge
tilts ever so gently against the skyline.
To get anywhere, I have to criss-cross rivers.
I drive toward the city through the tunnel
and the skyscrapers break the horizon. Atop
the inbound deck of the Fort Pitt Bridge,
Pittsburgh beckons my daemons to jump
into the icy Mongaheala and free me
from the catastrophe of geography.
Outbound, I switch lanes to avoid the tunnel,
and race the river parallel until I reach
the railroad tracks and home.
I walk the sidewalk of the Andy Warhol
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. But 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
they rise, the rivers remind me that I share
this landscape with something more unpredictable
than me. I'm terrified of the vibrations
when I'm stalled in traffic on a bridge, the
hiccup of concrete and steel as if it could tumble
or crack open any second.
— Laurin B.Wolf
Laurin B. Wolf has an MFA from Kent State University and a BA from the University of Pittsburgh in poetry writing. Her poems have appeared in PoetsArtists, Rune, Scholars & Rogues, PMS and Two Review. Her book reviews have appeared in Whiskey Island. She is a guest host on WESA's weekly radio show Prosody, featuring interviews with poets, and she and co-hosts the monthly reading series Mad Fridays. She teaches writing at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh and lives in Avalon.
