Old Bridge


Standing here what seems forever

Great arched brows of iron steel

Stretch across expanse of river

Passage for both track and wheel

A patina to its painted finish

Bleeding rust drips like long years

Appearance cannot diminish

Steadfast strength of sunken piers

From days of horse and wagon wheel

Safe crossing to all you’ve offered

No thought of how you must feel

Thanklessly, yourself you proffered

And underneath your steel rainbow

In the shade of your great span

Sits a boat with nowhere to go

Filled by an old fisherman

Oxide brown metal humpback whale

Breaching over the swamped divide

A snapshot captured mid-sail

Tail on one bank, tip other side

You stood here since I was young

And will be here decades more

Your praises will remain unsung

Hero of yon distant shore

8 Responses to “Old Bridge”
  1. Another one of your great poems in which your words create a vivid picture in my mind. Well done!

  2. Jim Borden says:

    a nice ode to bridges!

  3. Beautiful poetry can come from such simple things! Great poem Brad. I liked the “Bleeding rust” metaphor

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