Walking the Bridge

I’ve driven over the Brooklyn Bridge
Many a day, for years,
And each time I’d be struck by
How majestic it appears.

But walking it is different.
You can savor every stride,
And something unexpected
Sort of bubbles up inside.

It’s magical and special
And available to all;
Yet so many New Yorkers
Never heed its siren call.

The tourists make the journey;
All the guide books give it mention.
But locals pass it by and do not
Pay it much attention.

I recommend a saunter there
At dusk, with lights aglow;
And as you stroll, you, too, will be
A native in the know.