Commuting (A Poem)


Early morning

Rise before the sun

Shuttle, cold darkness

Eyes closed

 

Sound of traffic

Walk in the cold

Wait for the train

Minutes more

 

Frozen breath rises

Get on the train

Bell rings, doors close

Find a seat

 

Screeching rails

Train is silent

Bundled, withdrawn

Feeling fatigue

 

Station down below

Crowds of people press

Bodies stir air

Will it end?

Train

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