Tarr Steps

The summer symphony of the river Barle
Grows louder with each footstep.
As we leave the modern world behind,
Descending into the hidden valley,
Watched over by whispering oak, elder and ash.
At first the ancient bridge is barely visible –
Camouflaged against the mottled river bed
And the quiet shade.
Then – as eyes become accustomed to the dappled light
It materialises, mirage-like.
Roughly hewn flat, grey slabs braced by flying buttress shards
Seemingly growing from the earth to meet man’s need -
Sixty paces of untold history across the now quiescent water.
We cross, half-expecting to meet ancestral engineers on the other side,
As the ever-changing harmonics of river on stone
Ease our cares away,
Into stillness..........

Geoff Butts