Author: Sonja Johanson

Sonja Johanson is a contributing editor at the Found Poetry Review, and has recent work appearing in The Albatross, Redheaded Stepchild, and Off the Coast. She is the 2015 recipient of the Zero Bone and Kudzu Poetry Prizes, and has three chapbooks released in 2015:  “Trees in Our Dooryards” (Red Bird Press), “Impossible Dovetail” (Silver Birch Press, IDES) and “all those ragged scars” (Choose the Sword Press).  Sonja divides her time between work in Massachusetts and her home in the mountains of western Maine.

Web: plus.google.com/101075487522355843619

Under the Bridge

 

is a Troll. It’s the same Troll it always was, with
chicken-of-the-woods face, ears like green-necked
rutabagas, and morning breath from getting by
on lumpers with late blight. It still has to hide from
sunlight, hunt when it won’t be seen.  It used to do
all right, but that was when there were plenty of goats
in Gotham.  Now the goats are gone, so are the wagons,
and children don’t wander by in the night.

 

But the bridge – the bridge is not the same at all.
The whole time they were putting New Bridge up,
Troll had to hide in a culvert.  New Bridge is big,
concrete, good for sleeping under by day, but Troll
can’t catch a proper meal.  Nothing trip-traps over
great, grey New Bridge.  Instead, giant metal dragons
roar over with their white eyes.  Troll is so hungry,
sometimes it tries to snatch a smallish dragon, then
quivers under New Bridge, whimpering and sucking
on its broken paws.