Celebration 50: Ii
Yesterday the men came working
For the first time at last
With acetylene and torch burning
From eyes glazed
And fastened on the old bridge
That crossed the river
Where the canefields yawned
At my yearning
When I was hungry.
The river is still wide
And deeper now seems to me
When the old bridge is gone
How will the hungry masses
The trouble of this town escape?
One bridge can only feed today
And I fear
There is nothing to sustain tomorrow
When the old bridge
Scrapped, leaves a barren way.
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