The Tale of Twisted Metal


Photo is of the Traffic Bridge (Victoria Street Bridge) in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (Canada).  Since I took this photo, the bridge has been mostly demolished (see linked article).  It was the oldest traffic bridge in this City of Bridges (built in 1907).  It was condemned due to corrosion in 2010.  A new bridge will be built in its place, and is supposed to have the same general look, but will be wider than the original.   I loved driving across this bridge (my wife hated it), because it was so narrow that there was barely enough room to pass on-coming traffic.


twisted metal, rusting in a scrap yard
will anyone stop to open their ears
to hear the stories you have of a hard
life that lasted over five score of years?

you spanned the river shore to shore with pride
the only place to cross for horse and cart
and thus were three communities now tied
becoming one small city filled with heart

within a year, while you were still brand new
steamboat: City of Medicine Hat sank
where she struck your pillar while passing through
but you saw each come safely to the bank

I wonder as I pass and my feet slow
what stories, twisted metal, do you know?


at dVerse today, we are writing poetry using the word “Bridge”.  I didn’t use the word in my poem, but the poem is about a bridge.  I hope that works  🙂


14 thoughts on “The Tale of Twisted Metal

  1. Oh I LOVE this! Personifying this old bridge, after it’s been dismantled…so many stories to tell. Were there lovers who crossed in her early days? Anyone who jumped from her sides? Did she creak with age, sore from all those traversing her over her last years when she was not as nimble anymore? So glad you participated and posted this one! 🙂

  2. Great fun, nice choices. We had a large treats bridge here, & they removed the huge trestle, and rebuilt the bride as naked concrete, with no top. The trestle was propped up on blocks near the new bridge. I was allowed to go into the enclosure & photograph it. While doing so, I had similar thoughts to yours relative to its history.

  3. SMiLes.. reminds me of the old
    railroad trestle bridge that
    has lasted decades longer
    than me in my
    5.. DanCinG
    and SinGinG
    and at the age of
    5.. before TV waS iN
    a shot gun home by the
    whistle of railroad tracks
    that shook the block foundation
    of those wooden floors.. LooKinG
    at thAT BridGe ImAginATiOn bred
    moRe ways of LooKinG aT LiFE
    than any
    then.. i suppose
    that is what’s missing
    iN liFE these days.. my friEnd..
    bridGinG ImAginAtion CreaTinG moRe..:)

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