A Small Bridge After Rain

[Sparkydashforth]

Hi Achebe,

great feedback.
Much obliged to you.

I'm

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water.     .....'splish' is just perfect 
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells; .... 'thunderheads drummed' - beautiful.
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light. .... these three lines are exquisite. 'Limestone light' is magical.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps. ..... again, great detail 
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.... although a pretty picture, it's a sudden change from the river...
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. ......the last three lines, magical again 

This poem breathes beautiful lines, but after 'limestone' light, they start to lose unity. One doesn't lead on to the next. Rather, the reader is presented a mashup of images. I think that's where it starts reading more like an essay than a poem.