Analysis Of The Poem ' There 's The Bridge ' And The Opera House Too ! Look

1013 Words Feb 26th, 2016 5 Pages
She Wept “There’s the Bridge, oh, and the Opera House too! Look, Sara, the harbour is just like a postcard…,” Jane simply breathed her amazement. With nose pressed against the window of the Ferris wheel carriage, she continued her awed narration as we began our final, rounded descent. Lollipop roofs on canvas tents. Sun glinting off the polished brass poles of the carousel. People darting about, miniature, with all the frenzy of a colony of ants. The huge, manic mouth of Luna Park was ever hungry, greedily swallowing the frantic flow of families. It was then, as we drew closer to the ground, that I noticed a flaw, a great blemish in the rich tapestry of carnival colour. A woman. She sat on a bench beside the duck-shooting gallery. A woman in black. A young woman but with an age of history written on her face. The brash Sydney sun, while it tap danced on the bench beside her, was unable to penetrate the dark folds of her dress. As we rounded to her level, her eyes met mine. I was struck by the sheer nakedness, the vulnerability, of her bare face framed by dark curls. On that face, tears glistened like diamonds. She was crying – no, this was deeper, more regal somehow. Not a snivelling cry for help, a wet, sniffling, slurry of tears. It was different. The woman was … weeping. Shoulders hunched, body shuddering, lips parted slightly, emitting a deep, keening note. There was something darkly compelling about this woman and her display of emotion, incongruous in such a grossly…

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