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Cobbler

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Humble ,aged cobbler sitting at the roadside

Deftly repairs old shoes makes them almost new

Not repelled by the sight of dusty,grimy,old shoes

Faded with age , worn down by endless journeys

Weary eyes, lovingly caresses with bare hands

Smoothens wrinkles over his iron anvil with a hammer

Dirty,dusty old leather and rubber are his putty

He makes them shiny.. sparkling with delight

Puts a few humble coins into his hungry kitty

Eyes are old, weary.. eyesight hazy

He's available round the corner.. he's not lazy

Hot, sweltering Kolkata city in midsummer

Doesn't bother if Mr Good or Ms Happy became Mayor

Unconscious of his life fast drawing to a close

I met him this afternoon for mending my shoe

The cobbler is never mentioned in the column "who's who"


©Bishwanath Mukherjee



Author's Notes/Comments: 

The cobbler is the mirror image of the  shoes he gets to repair. In the poem several times I have deliberately left it to readers(if any) to find out .... The poor poor humble cobbler. I had to write about that poor old gentleman whom we tend to ignore

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last updated 26 February 2015 - 8:51am
©2 July 2013 - 7:23am — bishu
2 July 2013 - 8:09am — nightlight1220
nightlight1220's picture

Oh, this is wonderful, Bishu.

Oh, this is wonderful, Bishu. Yes, the ordinary person goes about with some of the most important jobs under recognised for the good they bring the world.. The true winners of the 'nobel peace prizes'.

 

.....

...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

2 July 2013 - 8:33am — bishu
bishu's picture

Thanks nl1220

Thanks nl1220 for appreciating my angle of view !!!!!!!

©bishu