The bridge

Before dark the bridge may be asked to span
The distances, unaided by support systems
Only by a sun going ,going and gone below.
A slightly ocher and yellow thing hangs there
To somewhat of disappointment,but the curve
There is surely a woman’s curve ,of the river
At eye’s end view with another bridge taking
The horizon’s place, in many words and now
There is a click in your throat and sun gone.

Where is the bridge light of your old waters
In the shimmer of a sun’s smooth dalliances
With tree’s shadows tingling breezed ripples?
Come another day, another dusk,with pure light
In your camera’s eyes and a heart closely held
In throat and love gathered in wondering eyes .

( On a visit to the Coronation bridge in Siliguri for sunset)

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