Hartland Bridge, New Brunswick

Pebbles spray our wooden
bridge, cars hurrying
places to go, late already
ancient structure a history of
craftsmanship, where little boys
wheel bicycles, doll carriages
and dogs slumbering by

listen to thumping tires
in their race over this river, once
pure for healthy gulps
laying on belly, soothing drinks
now gasoline fumes and oil
dribble out defiance at the
freshness of this night

a brocade of studded stars
highlight moon’s yawn, reflecting
river’s coiling mist, the evening
an invitation for sleepy ducks
settling on the river surface
silent swoops capturing
rest in the shadows of memory.

© Richard L. Provencher