In gratitude to the wobbly footbridge over the Middle Derwent in Portinscale, where I live
Run River Run Below my feet
Under the wobbly bridge
Over my troubled waters.
I was only just a wobbly teenager
When I first wobbled across.
Sat for the first time in a kayak
Did capsize drill in an eddy near the edge,
In the Middle Derwent.
Skiddaw was unmoved.
I learned how
Not to drown.
I stop in the middle sometimes
Notice where the water flows back on itself
Like an afterthought,
Something needs a second look.
Now I cross this bridge almost every day
Walking, running, on my bike,
It’s only just wide enough for that.
I’m going somewhere I’m coming home.
The bridge always wobbles.
I’ve got used to it.