The bridge had heard
of collapsing before.
The people who cross
sometimes talk of other bridges
that would fall and be
swept away by the river
and drive them to walk miles
to cross elsewhere. He can
feel every foot, every wheeltrack
traveling the length of his spine,
and sometimes the water
seems closer than the day before.
But he knows the bridges that
collapse are gone, and not one
of them know how many more
miles it takes without them.