Faintly he hears the bleat of Mr. Dollar’s goats from up the road.
No chance of a nice fat one trit-trotting across his bridge.
Troll must settle for devouring, with his unblinking eyes,
the beer swilling teenagers wielding spray cans,
the solitary Sunday morning fisherman,
the motionless heron gazing into the slow eddies for young trout.
In spring he feasts his eyes on the surge of brown flood water
muscling its way downstream,
and gorges on backyard debris—broken deckchairs, bicycle tires, chicken wire
In summer he drinks in the swallows swirling in the fly-riddled air
and the young ones peeping from their nests
tucked under the bridge’s metal struts
In fall he savors the acorns and maple helicopters
tossed into the current by kids hanging over the railings,
and the flocks of Canada geese settling into the marsh at twilight
And in winter the old troll digests the slow trickle under ice,
and the eagle perched in bare branches with one eye on the open water,
the other on the motionless figure watching from under the bridge.
the troll watching the eagle eyeing you: three points defining the plane, testifying each other’s presence.
Actually, there was a 2nd Troll just out of the shot. Who’s zooming who??
As a licensed card-carrying cynic (and occasional troll) myself I freely admit that I love it~!
We have the same here in NZ but our ‘art’ mostly takes the form of (would you believe, and how passé can you get?) swastikas—and most of ’em drawn backwards. Tut!
At last … someone who appreciates us trolls … sniff …
Yes, I was excited to find that our local headbangers have a sense of humor–and that their parents read to them as children. All good! Every bridge needs a troll!
That the one wielding the spray can was consciously placing a troll in his natural habitat seems incredible to me in this unmagical day and age — but I want to believe. 🙂
Sunshine I visit this troll and his mate (not featured in the picture, though she’s quite the looker!) often. They appeared a couple of years ago around Christmas. I feel certain there was irony involved!
I laughed when I actually saw the troll. Neat!
Fairy tales really do come true and sometimes even to life. Great Poem.
Liked your poem *Troll Under The Bridge – *and the picture of the Troll was wonderful. I love Trolls!
Lovely observations. I’m curious – was poem inspired by photograph?
Thanks, Karina. This fella and his mate are my local trolls. I’ve been charmed by them for a while now and thought I’d see if I could work them into something.
We take our inspiration where we find it. 🙂 Enjoyed the poem and the troll. –Curt
Curt, much appreciate the comments!
Love how you made the figure take shape and come to life, Melissa. I think from now on I will pause when passing by graffiti, and take a moment to see it through your poetic pen.
Thank you! I’m tempted to load up with spray paint and go on a guerilla campaign painting trolls under bridges all over the country. ;- )