POOH’S BRIDGE

 

7 hours over the ocean
Jet-lagged, we determined to go
To the uncommercialized, unDisneyfied
World of Christopher Robin
In the middle of nowhere
Only found by a book.
Tiny general store,
6 car parking lot
Ask for a paper showing the way
Down a sleep path-hang on, don’t fall over!

My inner Eeyore pops forth as voices sound in my ear.
What? Share this magical moment?
Groan, Grump, Complain.
The forest opens to a tiny clearing.

Upon the bridge what’s this I see? What’s this I hear?
8 preschool children
8 tiny violins
Our own welcoming serenade.
Swiftly Eeyore segues to Tigger
As the orchestra ends
And the tall thin conductor
Leans back on the arch of the bridge
Reading aloud the “Story of Pooh Sticks”.
Story and concert compli
They move on,
And Tiggerish, we play Pooh Sticks for our grandchildren.