July 14, 2018July 11, 2018 HumanitiesAttic The Bridge Yet whenever I cross the river On its bridge with wooden piers, Like the odor of brine from the ocean Comes the thought of other years. –Longfellow https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50463/the-bridge-56d22d989abbc Share this:TwitterFacebookPrintEmailLike this:Like Loading...
HumanitiesAttic 