The Talking Walled-Bridge

9

I am created by careful hands.
Brick by brick, men worked hard
to build me to connect two longing,
disconnected, untamed paths.

As I age with time my scarlet hues fade,
my brick-made walls crumble.
I become a forgotten landscape.
My foundations now tremble.

Yet I think no second was wasted.
Each tire screech I heard, each footstep I felt,
every ebb and flow of my best friend river,
every rain drop kissing my sun-kissed embers,
they all left a dent, a scar, a reminder.

I may or may not stood longer,
but I connected souls, cars, this place better.

Word count: 100
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Joy Pixley🙂

In response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) November 01, 2016.

and dVerse‘s Poetics: If Walls Could Talk by Mish who wrote about Abusing Walls. (Not sure though if this fits the prompt. 😀

dverse

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46 thoughts on “The Talking Walled-Bridge

  1. I think it might be fun (smart fun) to remove the image and read the poem as a riddle. Have a group use the verse to find the solution. To say the least, intriguing work, sister! I really enjoy the voice of the bridge (oops–I gave the riddle away).

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Of course this fits the prompt! Perfectly too, might I add 🙂 I am going to run out of words to express how much I enjoy and am in awe of the way you weave your words 🙂 ❤ It sounds so melodious. I'm sure that bridge is brimming with happiness.

    Liked by 1 person

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