Bream bridge.
For the bridge shoal.

Four dozen or so, counted slow
by the old stone bridge,
heaving traffic held in selfish jams
and on flyovers, none the wiser,

while gathered as a group trowel,
sifting in a huddle, dense,
sizes, four to fifteen pound around,
each large as a pup or foal,

drifting by crippled water-turf
shaking in the straight, broad flow.