Volume VI, No. 1, Fall 1978

Bridges You Seldom See

by Daniel Hough

Photography by Daniel Hough and Stephen Ludwig

My path lies yonder
on opposite banks--
to swim? I lack the nerve.
But cross I must
and travel I shall
for this, a bridge may serve.

My life I roam
and many a time
a bridge I utilize.
'Till late I've found to gain my goal
a bridge will satisfy.

But one dark night
I lost my way
and suffered the cold and wet.
I felt my doom
was close at hand
and knew I'd suffer yet.

Hours and miles
I stumbled and swore
tired and weary, near dead.
I topped a hill
gazed o'er the crest
and saw bright lights ahead.

"Salvation!" I cried
and stumbled on
renewed with joy of  life.
But fate played hard
as the valley revealed
another scene of strife.

A void of darkness
and cold deep water
remained between me and rest.
I could not swim so on I trudged
hoping all for the best.

As the lights nearly faded,
my spirits sank low,
and again the fate I dread so--
To die without mention
forlorn and forgotten
when a bridge appeared down below.


I stopped and I stared
wishing to believe
that help was now in my view.
Forward I ran
to cross on the bridge
and find the sleep so long due.

But no! Once again
my plan had been spoiled
by that which I cannot cope.
The bridge, as existed
failed midway in stream
and stifled my last chance and hope.

A closer inspection
of bridge on location
proved puzzling, and bound both my hands
I looked and I stammered
for some explanation
of forces past all my commands.

After many long queries
I disposed on this question
and reverted to my current problem.
I wandered away
in search of a path
more rewarding in terms of an end.

Still I was lost
finally worn and exhausted
I collapsed, awaiting the last.
But early next morning
surprised by survival
I set out to break my long fast.

My search was rewarded
when nearing a farmhouse
I found good neighbors and feed.
Renewed and refreshed
I returned to my journey
fulfilled at last of my need.

But one single question
I posed to my hosts
of bridges lacking departure.
Curious stares
and smiling, shaking heads
served as my only answer.

Often I searched
out the site of my trek
for those who disbelieve me.
I tell you the truth
and the proofs of my tale
are the Bridges We Seldom See.


Copyright © 1981 BITTERSWEET, INC.

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