Student Publishing Program ::

Joanna W.

The Bridge

The air around is misty and calm
After the pitter patter of gentle Spring showers.
Golden rays peak from behind the clouds,
Shedding light upon the wooden red bridge.

Reflected in the rippling pond and
Stretched from bank to bank,
The chipped-paint bridge groans softly
As I stroll along its arched back.

The world on this side seems simpler.
Swallows sing; crickets chirp; the world
Around, alive. Nature reveals its wonders
In a melodic harmony.

That old red bridge always seems
To bring a new perspective to me.
Upon a rock, I seat myself, and
Clear my mind, relax, unwind.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]