Ghostly Echoes

Wooden covered bridge

Footsteps echo like ghosts.
Dust clogs the air, and
breezes rattle webs then
spin brown leaves
into dry devils.
Sentry swallows
dive from eaves,
startling us into
thumping dance steps:
one forward and two back.
A tiny beak chirps
from a mud cup.
The mother snaps
mosquitoes from midair,
hovering by the nest
like a tiny dragon,
eyes aflame with purpose.
We pace forward cautiously,
no longer sure of our primacy.
We emerge in sunshine,
glad to walk quietly.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: We may build the bridge, but the folk who live there own it. Do you ever feel the past hanging heavily over a place?

44 thoughts on “Ghostly Echoes

  1. Bridges are already symbolic to most if but you added another dimension. Most might visualize the builders or the means of transportation, like horse and buggy or men on foot, traveling across the countryside but I liked your focus on the natural elements surrounding, living within and without this bridge.

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  2. thank goodness another pesky mosquito gone… 🙂 love the historical bridge…one can imagine all kinds of neat stories to tell such as this lovely poem. cheers!

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  3. Very nice Brenda. When I visit older sites, I always think about the people who built them, lived in them, worked the land, etc. It’s so different. We drive up, walk around, take a few pictures and leave. People worked for years on some of the places I’ve visited for 20 minutes.

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