The Matchstick Bridge: A Story in Haiku

 

While in Skagway, Alaska, we took a train ride up the mountain. One of the features of this stretch of track is a wooden bridge that leads into a mountain tunnel. Looking at it from afar, my heart began racing because of it's height and that fact that it appeared made of matchsticks. Obviously, the bridge held, and I was able to get this photo. As I listened to the guide's story of the train's origin, as a support for those prospecting for gold in the Yukon, and the bridge itself, I knew there was a poem in there somewhere. 

dreams of riches call

unprepared for wilderness

travelers perishing

gold rush to yukon–

train built for power and speed

men and provisions

the matchstick bridge—

angled and curved intricate

patterned triangles

built for endurance

ensuring safe passage through

last frontier landscape

miles above the sea

views of glacial waterfalls

pass between mountains 

across steep chasms

feats of engineering hold

withstanding pressure

Bridging the Gap

A memory near faded

A monument of time lost

Leading back on the path

Like a breadcrumb left

A travel-worn road

A traversal of paths

Bridging the gap

Between coming and going

An unfathomable depth

An unsure traveler

Stuck on the outskirts

Searching for the pinnacle

A realization of triumph

A retreat forward-moving

Trip of a lifetime

Tempering past hurts

 

A gratifying relief

A glimpse of shared affection

Presence obscures pain

Patching fissures in miles

The Facade

 

Snake-like tendrils stretch out,

Grasping for purchasing

Like hair in the wind

Yet strong, powerful

Intentional in their reach.

Feet firmly planted

Basking in the sun

Indifferent to the eyes

Watching in wonder

Unaware of the tension

Holding her in place.

A prisoner of her own strength

Held in place by tendrils of memory

Longing to let go yet

Afraid of the horror left

In the wake of her collapse

She stands tall, proud, 

Hiding the cracks in her foundation.