quiet in the evening the way spring evenings do,
with bird-songs sailing through the stillness, I
stopped my bike on the bridge opposite our skyline
and photographed its lights against the vast indigo
with its constant companion, the river, dressing up for night.

then in a moment I surfaced from the view, to see
the mirror of myself, just down the bridge, where
some young man had parked his bike to take his own pictures.
I was sure he was with me in feeling that deep solitude
with the sky and the birds and the city and the river.