The Old Bridge at Brissac

 

Translucent water glides

over green weeds where

sunlight and shadow play.

Iridescent blue damselflies

whirr in couples. A yellow papillon

flaps clumsily by. Dragonflies,

moths, butterflies, of many kinds

and colours, thread the summer air

above rushes, reeds and flowering

water flora.

 

The old bridge with its zig-zag

of passing places links the high castle

to the low village, and has done

for hundreds of years, a means of passage

for people, beasts and wagons,

rural freight.

 

Today it is a place for contemplation,

a place where you can stand

to view the scene  

and taste the picturesque.

 

Into this idyll steps the villager  

to gather a battered bucket

on weathered rope.

 

He leans down

and scoops from the river

to water his beans.