Old and rickety it hung over
The swift flowing river
For years it stood strong
And observed many people
Hearing many stories and
Even confessions
Young to old, some stayed around
Others left unannounced
Either way, it still hangs on
Having lived to behold many tales
And be the support for many faces
Now the wind has worn him thin
No longer able to be their limb
A historical arch of admiration

old-bridge

(Found photo here)

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