Tuesday, January 17, 2012


Spanning chasms and offering safety, the bridge stands year after year.  It's strength seems effortless, taken for granted by those upheld by it's engineering.

Time, neglect and chaos take their toll.

At first it's just softness underfoot, spongy.  The small, slow deteriorating of wood and the quiet rust of metal a warning.

They all want to say it fell suddenly, but they never listened to the rust and the softness of the wood until they were tumbling through the dark waters beneath it.


Maria said...

At first read, I was humming "Like a bridge over troubled waters... I will lay me down..."

At second read, I said to myself, that bridge is fragile.

At third read, I understood.

I like the noise in your head.

Kristin said...

Totally made me think of my mom. Us mom's. I don't know what you were referring to, maybe the same, but those are my thoughts.

Travis Cody said...

A lovely prose poem with layers of meaning. I knew you had stuff to say when you came back to the blog.

Mags said...


Also love? Your cute fam!!!