Street lights,
Sleepy from fighting the fog.
A road
That winds and winds,
Like a serpent,
Each stretch merging into the previous,
Becoming indistinct.
A strange writing on milestones,
That vanishes
Upon nearing.
Amongst these,
Thankfully,
A gust of cold wind
That meets hot, coffee laden breath
And sends down a shiver.
***
©Rasagya Kabra, January 7, 2012
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