Friday, December 26, 2008

wisps of morning mist
dance in the beams
of car headlights

grey road,white paint
deserted flyovers,
closed shops

streetlight posts
stand tall
in mute resignation

equally spaced
in a neat row,but
never quite close enough

taking a turn now,
at the corner
of a gully

a chai-wala,
in blue striped muffler,
opens his stall

and on a cycle,
aluminium cans rattle
as a milkman sails past.


Anonymous said...

what are u doing up so early in life?? :D

Bland Spice said...

funny. i walked out onto my balcony to day into the morning fog and thought of a haiku, and then you.

have blogged on today's fog too.

pankaj said...

a crisp winter morn...sigh...

crackfire said...

Aren't this connected Haikus, pardon me I am not much of a lit/poem types but your blog came highly recommended.

oneminutepost said...

This poem nudged me to look around the beautiful reality when I go out in the morning. As always great job!

Abhay said...

i'd add joggers and loud temple/mosque/church hymns to the scene :)