Photo is of the Traffic Bridge (Victoria Street Bridge) in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (Canada). Since I took this photo, the bridge has been mostly demolished (see linked article). It was the oldest traffic bridge in this City of Bridges (built in 1907). It was condemned due to corrosion in 2010. A new bridge will be built in its place, and is supposed to have the same general look, but will be wider than the original. I loved driving across this bridge (my wife hated it), because it was so narrow that there was barely enough room to pass on-coming traffic.
twisted metal, rusting in a scrap yard
will anyone stop to open their ears
to hear the stories you have of a hard
life that lasted over five score of years?
you spanned the river shore to shore with pride
the only place to cross for horse and cart
and thus were three communities now tied
becoming one small city filled with heart
within a year, while you were still brand new
steamboat: City of Medicine Hat sank
where she struck your pillar while passing through
but you saw each come safely to the bank
I wonder as I pass and my feet slow
what stories, twisted metal, do you know?
at dVerse today, we are writing poetry using the word “Bridge”. I didn’t use the word in my poem, but the poem is about a bridge. I hope that works 🙂