The Bridge

My love and I, we walked along
And came upon a bridge
A river flowing under
A path towards a ridge
Clear blue skies and cotton clouds
And auburn trees did touch
To signify connection
A glance, a gentle blush
The river represented life
Flowing from old to new
The ridge, the coming struggle
That we would both go through
We crossed that bridge and ne’er looked back
The path goes on forever
And most importantly for us
We climbed the ridge together.

©Alan B.McGourlay