Written by Emily Harstone | October 24, 2016
They met here, every September third.
Bridges are dreams across beautiful waterfalls.
Crossing trouble waters to ultimately ascend.
Think it’s safe? Sure, you go.
Cascading waters swiftly pass my roost.
The tree laced the bridge, hoping.
Mother Earth pours open her soul.
I was always on display now.
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They met here, every September third.
Bridges are dreams across beautiful waterfalls.
Crossing trouble waters to ultimately ascend.
Think it’s safe? Sure, you go.
Cascading waters swiftly pass my roost.
The tree laced the bridge, hoping.
Mother Earth pours open her soul.
I was always on display now.