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Pradip Chattopadhyay

Veteran Poet - 3,206 Points (28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

By the broken bridge


The sodden sky was ominous gray
Halted wheels on fruitless span
I knew I had lost my way
When from earth shot up one old man!

There he was by the broken bridge
With soiled hands face smiling
His long white beard hid agelong crease
And bar him the road had no one thing!

I asked him the way to the old fort
For rolled the wheels in vain too far
He caught me up in quick rapport
As flew in the winds his monkly hair!

He told the story when the English came
And how they struggled in the hostile clime
Built the bridge got the river dammed
Now broken pillars of ravaged time!

Twenty miles he said need to go
Till you reach the fort now a rubbled pile
On the left with you would be river's flow
That's half an hour with a forty mile!

I have so much to tell about this place
The English bridge and all the story
But I know he said with time you race
If only you could spend an hour with me!

Submitted: Monday, September 01, 2014
Edited: Monday, September 01, 2014

Topic of this poem: travel


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Comments about this poem (By the broken bridge by Pradip Chattopadhyay )

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  • Freshman - 1,925 Points Lorraine Colon (9/2/2014 4:41:00 PM)

    Very interesting story. I wish you had stayed with the old man longer - I wanted to hear more. (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 12,205 Points Valsa George (9/2/2014 1:38:00 AM)

    Old men have so many stories to narrate, but with time when we race, we don't have either the leisure or patience to wait for the end of their story! Here the broken bridge and the withered old man stand out in the poem as two powerful symbols! Enjoyed! (Report) Reply

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