The Natural Bridge            
                  by              
               Vicki H. Moss             

     Spiritualists called you natural    
     bridge to the other world           
     top of Lookout Mountain             
     closest place to God.               
     Prayed they'd step                  
     right across into an  Elysian Field,
     drinking chalybeate waters,         
     rapping on tables                   
     chalking messages on slate          
     talking to dead grannies, Tecumseh, 
     General Sherman, like anybody south 
     of the Mason Dixon line             
     wanted to feel his fire             
     ever again. But to a young lad,     
     you were the quickest               
     path to Suzie's house,              
     highway to heaven                   
     I galloped across praying           
     to kiss my boyhood dream.