The Covered Bridge
A covered bridge once spanned across
this deep, dividing stream
and anxious reverence filled the thoughts
of all to trek its way.
Wrought iron bolts held taught and fast
this might of chiseled beam
as shingled roof and clapboard wall
held brevity at bay.
It stood the days when horses drew
their harvests to the mill
that lay beyond the river’s weir,
along the channel stride.
Its wooden slats were burnished clean
by spindled wagon wheels
and planks would whimper hallowed moans
as wind and stream collide.
Its stalwart strength held stoic
as a darker day encroached
and bore this Nation’s burden when
Her war was in its prime.
And some still hear the cannon wheels
engrave as they approached,
and Brogans pounding cadence as
formations march in time.
As time will do its passing drew
the strength from timbered bone,
and soon it came to call upon
this faithful trodden friend.
Two hundred years of lumbered toil
gave way to man-made stone
so, generations still to come
could bridge divides again.
Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2025
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