Poem ~ Footbridge


Each time I run here I stop to love it 
a little more, its broken concrete walkway 

and crooked handrails straddling 
the Leybourne Stream that, even in winter, 

is never more than a brusque current 
and today is as calm as the pond 

it once fed, a century ago, at a corn mill 
half a mile from here. It reminds me 

there will always be streams and rivers 
to cross, some times tentatively 

through cold and unforgiving water, 
our bare feet trying to find purchase 

on the bed, negotiating tree roots and silt. 
But most times we are like heroes, our journey 

uninterrupted, confidently striding 
the span of wood and stone between banks. 

One day I will take off my shoes 
and wade through, remind myself to be grateful.