Comstock Bridge

Rolling river full of trout
Vines climbing fences and trees
Childhood memories on the river back
The old bridge hides within the trees
The rickety, old bridge creates the sound of age once one walks on it
Many feet have traveled on the bridge
The bridge holds memories of our past
The bridge, the trees engraved in my memory
The stream, the sand engraved in my memory
I will never forget Comstock Bridge





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