The Little White Bridge

I grew up

In such a nice quiet neighborhood

Separated from all else

By a little white stone bridge

Which spanned over a canal

In the American Venice.

Towering above were

St. Mark’s proud lions.

When I moved there,

At twelve,

It was the bridge of not yet.

When I left,

Long after,

It was the bridge of never more.

It leads to worlds 

Both of anticipation

And of memory.

Welcome back to Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.  Today we have KERRY SAYS~HUMAN LANDSCAPE INTERACTIONS .

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8 thoughts on “The Little White Bridge

  1. Margaret Elizabeth Bednar says:

    The bridges of NYC fascinate me, especially at night when all lit up. I have a fear driving over some – the Mackinaw bridge (Michigan) but it is a great experience…

    Liked by 1 person

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