PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I once crossed a bridge.

This particular bridge wove together a story for me,

 "listen to my song, I'll only sing it once. I've carried the weight of hundreds, no two ever the same."

It swayed in time with my steps, and moaned a low tune as I walked.

It sang of hurried footfalls from children, returning from a summer afternoon in the lake that lay just beyond the bridge's reach.

Fresh mud from little toes, now caked and dried by the hazy heat from a grinning sun.

Slow, lingering steps from lovers, not wanting the day spent together to end. Trailing memories behind them, their evening comes to a close as the sun slips beneath the milky blanket of twilights berth.

I pause as I come to the end of the bridge. It shudders and creaks, pausing its tale; water lapping at its sides like a parched dog, hungry for attention.

Turning, I glance over my shoulder and for a brief moment, I see these spectral paths of children, of lovers, of those now departed, all crossing and overlapping-

They create a marvelous cacophony of footsteps and my chest swells with emotion. So much has been felt on this stretch of wood and steel, and it overwhelms me with the simple exquisiteness of humanity.

I take the final step, my foot leaves the last plank and hits earth again. I continue on.

Behind me, an old bridge nods and bobs its creaking goodbye, sending another world-worn traveler on his way.