The Covered Bridge

Tired timbers creak and groan; lonely bones now brittle, once proud and strong when bearing the harvest weight. The wagons and muscular engines were no burden for my young and supple limbs. Spanning the Connecticut, green to granite - I miss the melody of wheels and hooves; the morning breaths floating and settling among my rafters - dripping in the noon heat. Carriages where whispers echo between my latticed trusses and clandestine truths and lies were lost in the shadows where tears of both joy and pain are forever hidden. Below, the river perpetually runs like life and time, always moving, never waiting, and testing our will to carry on...