old Picket Bridge, built sturdy and strong

many moons ago is the history’s song

with Whatcom Creek rushing below

the soldiers marched to and fro

 

 

different feet from various walks of life

trod upon it day and night

the years flew by as did the time

still the bridge stood ever so sublime

 

today its purpose is doublefold

the only home for the humble-souled

the pavement is laid and so are the planks

people  using it without asking their rank

 

sheltering the homeless safely underneath

in the cold they sleep with shattering teeth

progress they say has come our way

yet so many are left with no place to stay