And just like magic, there he was, standing on the mountain near the bridge where we had kissed that day. I ran toward him, my heart so full at his return. My faith had been justified and love won again. But the closer I came, the further he drifted, until I was alone on the bridge once more. Though it was winter, my arms were full of flowers, and I threw them down to the river, one by one. The dark water grabbed them greedily and swirled the blooms away.
I woke up crying. When will I be rid of the ghost of Billy Joe?
Written for the Daily Echo and inspired by Bobbie Gentry’s song “Ode to Billie Joe.”
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