The Red Bridge

I am a foot bridge,

I'm tired and worn from years of boots and shoes.

My wood is cracking,

and I have been blocked off from human use.

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My red paint gives me pride, like the pathway I provide

And the water I'm astride.

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I span a river,

With its current slowly tickling my feet.

It's called the Fish Hook,

A finer river you will never meet.

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My red paint gives me pride, like the pathway I provide

And the water I'm astride.

*

Here in Park Rapids,

The kids play water sports all summer long

And then it freezes,

In winter, ice houses are standing strong.

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My red paint gives me pride, like the pathway I provide

And the water I'm astride.

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I felt like crying

The day they took me down, towed me away,

But then they put me

Into a park, and now I'm here to stay.

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My new paint gives me pride, like the fun that I provide,

As the kids across me stride, in the park, now river side.

This was a fun walk down memory lane, having grown up right on the Fish Hook River in Park Rapids, Minnesota.