The Bridge

The bridge is where we used to go
...when we needed to get away
The private place we had
...to think, hope and pray.

Between us we spent
...countless hours there.
Our triumphs, our tragedies
...at the bridge always share.

The bridge is the place
...where we first met.
We first held each other close
...a night I'll never forget.

So many hopes and dreams
... we shared at our spot.
Most have gone away
...abandoned or forgot.

Still, as long as I’m alive,
...until my days are done,
Whenever I think of the bridge
... I'll only think of one.

Though now eyes grow dim
...in my mind still I can see
Your face in the water
... smiling up at me.

Suddenly, your image gone
...no vision do I espy.
As tokens of love
... falling from my eye

Ripple the water
... your vision to replace.
With one of my own
... an old man’s smiling face.

Who, at long last knows
...why the waters always ran so deep.
Because for every generation
...lost love comes here to weep.

Russ Pergram