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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.
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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.
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[39]
Copyright © 1981 BITTERSWEET, INC.
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