Elin Babcock: Bear Creek Bridge 

The tree covered itself
With a spring cloak
Of chartreuse flowers
With a touch of red
He always said
For a highlight
Drama quite complete.
Dropping garlands
Into the stream.

The condemned bridge
Spans Bear Creek
What car or stick
Or straw will break
Its back?

I am in denial
While crossing
Whistling happy
Carefree
As if it made me lighter
Less of a burden.

I looked back.
Did it always sway that much?
Or moan?

No. Only the wind
Telling jokes to the trees
Uplifting their branches
Into a smile.

The horses come closer,
Quicker to the fence
In spring
And argue at who
Would get the apple first.

Saddled up
They, too, hesitated
At the bridge.

© Elin Babcock. All rights reserved.