When the tides go out
the mudflats reveal bits of history.
The random speckling of rocks
dancing around and among
a purposeful line of a man-made something.
More evidence of early dikes I presume.
A straight line heading for the meandering evidence of a stream.
Behind the dike we walk along
are remnants of a fence no longer important.
The marks left behind from a bridge of olden times.
Across the river the bridge foundations reappear
right next to the concrete upright of today's bridge.
Then the not so modern
and now unused
pylons of the old railway bridge.
All these marks left behind by us humans of yore
might be the beginnings of some work.
I wonder if I will witness much deterioration in this bridge
as the years go by.