His signature.

He paced regally, the zenith of the arch
Beautiful as a greek god, an artist's dream
Gazing at infinity, oblivious to the tourists' march
Magnificently quiet, sans whisper or scream
Clad in fine, dark leather, disdainful his stride
Animated his demeanor, exuding vitality and verve
His stare intense, furious like the tide
Life throbbing in his every sinewy nerve

Defiant his swagger, like a stallion's-untame
Repeatedly he reined his mane-uncontained
Mounting with easy grace, he crowned the scarlet frame
Supremely in balance, in a moment time-unstained
Like an acrobat's, mesmerising, his back-flip
Like a shooting star, or a missile misguided -
he plunged, vanishing into a statistical blip.
Cars blazed noisily past the bridge, so prided