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Bundled, withdrawn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?