The Mossy Bridge
There’s a mossy bridge at the end of trail
My heart and soul know it quite well
It’s a quiet retreat to rest and think
Where turtles sun and then slowly sink
If pressures need to be eased a smidge
I walk on down to the mossy bridge
The old bridge has been carved by lovers and time
A hideaway from life’s robbers of the mind
A serene haven to catch your breath
A place to mourn while grieving a death
I’ve traveled out often over this old ridge
To bide my time on this old mossy bridge
A bass hits the water interrupting my train of thought
Like a fierce warrior that escaped, when once he was caught
A hawk soars overhead, peering through the peace for a suitable meal
I take it all in letting the balm of nature heal
To break the silence would be pure sacrilege
And to dishonor the wisdom of the mossy bridge