Read more poems by Ron Rash: Ron Rash Poems at Poetry X.
Barbed wire snags like briars when fence posts rot in goldenrod, the cows are gone, the cowpath a thinning along the creek to follow upstream until water narrows, gray planks lean over the flow like a book open but left unfinished, like this bridge was when the man who started it took to his death-bed, watched from there a son drive the last nails, drive the truck across so he might die less burdened that night. The farmhouse is razed now, the barn and shed bare quilts of ground. All that's left some fallen-down four by fours, a few rusty nails, this bridge the quick or the dead can't cross.
Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 5 Sep 2026 12:25 AM | Viewed: 5179 times
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Ron Rash
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