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!
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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!
Nice narration of a bridge of British era in a poetic form with nice and apt words.............well composed
Very interesting story. I wish you had stayed with the old man longer - I wanted to hear more.