R.K Das

(22, january / INDIA)

At The Level Crossing


Here I come to a halt
At the closed doorstep
Of the level crossing
On my daily path.

From the ashes
Of the driver’s seat
I rise like a Phoenix
And in no time get lost in the remains
Of a drowsy past.

There, I delicately felt
The dry petals of a red rose,
The clumsy lines of a crumpled love-letter,
And broken smiles of a pair of white lips
Pronouncing a few unintelligible
Alphabet at the parting time.

And I lend my anxious ears
To the dying echo of her
Receding footsteps overtaking me
During a heavy moment.

I also remember
How I pitied all and sundry
Who hastened to console me,
For they claimed to decipher
The language of my tears silently flowing
From the Gangotri of my eyes.

Here I wake up
On hearing the deafening honk
And metallic commotion
Of throbbing automobiles at my back,
As the level crossing opens
Before my eyes.

Submitted: Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Edited: Tuesday, June 14, 2011

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Comments about this poem (At The Level Crossing by R.K Das )

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  • Renu Kakkar (10/2/2011 11:04:00 AM)

    going down memory lane at the level crossing waiting for the signal to cross....nice (Report) Reply

  • Allemagne Roßmann (8/29/2011 2:42:00 AM)

    i like the phrase Gangotri of eyes...when it is plain region then it is like the river and when tears fell it has its simile as Gangotri glacier.Gangotri is very cold though tears have an alkaline ph but its poetic importance here is appreciable (Report) Reply

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