Would she emerge from this experience intact
Or would it reveal details in her soul
That would render her unable to stretch
Beyond whatever was feeding her terror

It would mystify her to see those in such fine fettle
They could bound to the center of the  bridge
Atop the Gorge and fearlessly peer down
At the source of the shining brook, watch it meander
And  carve even deeper Into the rock

It seemed to  dance in the shadow of the ravine
As it made its escape sustaining field and farm
Tinkling and melodious
From the depths, it sounded like a muted organ

As those admired, hardy souls stared down into the abyss
She could not contemplate such daring
She felt obscure thoughts rush in to crush her spirit
Her soul scoring the deeper meanings of her dilemma

And while those musings continue
We can confine the problem at present
To simply driving across this span

She wondered aloud – Could she do it?
Would they arrive safely on the other side?
Or would they have to abandon the car
With its stick shift that her companion
Could NOT drive

Not glancing to either side
Straight down the middle – our heroic figure did drive
oncoming traffic be damned
No need to call 911 to take the wheel


Lorlee Bartos is a retired Minnesota Liberal doing missionary work in Texas politics with occasional forays into doggerel poetry.