Day 248 – Take Me to the River

Take me to the river

Day 248

Wash of Cold River by Hilda Doolittle

Wash of cold river
in a glacial land,
Ionian water,
chill, snow-ribbed sand,
drift of rare flowers,
clear, with delicate shell-
like leaf enclosing
frozen lily-leaf,
camellia texture,
colder than a rose;

wind-flower
that keeps the breath
of the north-wind —
these and none other;

intimate thoughts and kind
reach out to share
the treasure of my mind,
intimate hands and dear
drawn garden-ward and sea-ward
all the sheer rapture
that I would take
to mould a clear
and frigid statue;

rare, of pure texture,
beautiful space and line,
marble to grace
your inaccessible shrine.

This old bridge stands in Mottville, MI next to a newer ‘serviceable’ but ugly bridge.  This historic camelback bridge spans the St. Joseph River and the only traffic it is open to is foot traffic.  As I wandered over, around and under it today, I wondered about the people who have passed over it in its lifetime.  Built in 1922, I can imagine the wagon and horseless carriage traffic that passed over the span; perhaps people on their way home, to work, to shop or to head to Klinger Lake’s Bohemian Club to dance to the sweet sound of  the Bob Butler Orchestra.  Al Capone is even rumored to have spent time in the area at the speakeasies. 
So much time and so many people have passed and still this bridge stands with the endless flow of the river underneath.  And I am just a tiny part of the history of the bridge, just a moment in time.

Drop me in the water

Dip into the water

Push me in the water.... Carry me down

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