In between casts, the writer cannot help but be drawn to the ancient architecture of the bridges that span the popular fishing hole...not so popular today in the 40-degree sunlight!
Pillars that have stood for generations...
secrets therein that remain unknown;
How many are the hands in their erection?
As many are the inspirations sown!
Silent, the remainder of the morning
save the current--by His hand controlled;
that which be suspended by the pillars
is spanning that too deep and way too cold!
Yet again to foster fascination-
"They do not make 'em like that anymore!"
See the craftsmanship in every detail
from the bluffs unto the other shore!
For now, however, listen to the stories;
words--though it be stoic in its pride;
opportunity for any writer
taking time by pillars river-side.
No matter how cold it gets, there be yet a few die-hards out in the current casting away. Let them. The writer will yet be taken by the glory of the God's creation...with its signs of industry standing firm!
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