May 14, 2012

An Early Morning Stroll

The cold wind whips across my face,
dreams rouse lazily in my eyes,
priming her meddling grip on my mind,
Readying me for yet another race.
I sigh, wondering how long I'll keep at her games
yet not sure I'd like to break free from her bind.

A man angrily blares his car horn
against a defiant bike hustling for his charge;
A street hawker beckons me to her wares
and I reward her with a casual wave;
The Mai-ruwa pushes life along
oblivious of what I see,
the bird on the fence strutting
around another that pays no attention.

Everybody is busy
barely noticing the mist
that clings stubbornly
like the guilt of last night sins,

I keep on walking