an ode to the rail trail

I’ll miss you bridge, burnt red and stronger than thunder.

I’ll miss you spider webs—wispy dinner plates for the tiny hunters. 

I’ll miss you, cool breeze. Thank you for keeping my temperature comfortable. 

I’ll miss you, Wallkill River. Your rippled waves look like jello—I never noticed them underneath the floorboards.

I guess I’ll miss you, too, wooden floorboards. I never noticed how deep your ridges are, like wrinkles. It’s funny how the moss squeezes between you. 

I’ll miss you trees—there are so many of you. All reaching towards the sun, especially the one sipping the water. 

I’ll miss you, tangled vines. I imagine John Krasinski looking up at you, too. He thought, I want to shoot a movie here.

Thank you, red bridge, for letting me take a rest. To stretch my legs, sip my water bottle, and catch my breath.