The Old Bridge Poem by Kinso Wolf

The old bridge sitting there
Made by our fathers grandfathers
Out of not metal but of logs
Standing in the open through the years
While there are others of many shapes and sizes
You are unique unlike all the rest
With all your cracks and holes, each tell a story
Of a life long lived helping only others
If I had to choose it'd be you
I would be yet another person to walk your way
To walk across your ancient path
Thinking of the stories that could be told
The history that has been assisted by you
I wish I could join you see what you have to offer
Maybe the next day or so, but sadly for now,
I need to take another path.